Chapter 55

“For your eyes only!” I tell him. I’m amazed that I’m still so hard for him despite this.Maybe because of it, a voice inside me whispers, but I refuse to believe that. “I thought we were here to hook up,” I tell him, finally pulling up my briefs. They’re damp and clammy against my skin, my hands smell of musk and sex, my cock burns with a sweet fire that threatens to set me aflame but I ignore it. I stagger as I try to pull my jeans up. “You never said you wanted to document the deed.”

Damien touches the small of my back. I’m precarious anyway, teetering on one foot as I wrestle with the jeans, and it’s all too easy to fall back on the bed beside him. “Brandon,” he murmurs, kissing my shoulder. His lips are hot through my shirt. I want to push him away again but can’t. As if he knows this, he nuzzles against me, forces his head under my arm to rub his nose into my ribs. His hair feels impossibly soft beneath my hand. “My little broken boy,” he calls me, a play on my username that melts whatever defenses I’ve tried to shore up between us. He says my real name again, lays his head in my lap. My hand is on his back now—when did he remove his shirt? He has two small wings tattooed between his shoulder blades, and I brush his long hair aside to trace the curve of the ink on his pale skin. He’s playing with my dick again, one finger poking at the swollen head through my briefs. His breath tickles along my inner thighs. As if nothing happened, he asks, “You have any tats?”

I frown at the wings on his back. “No,” I admit. I feel I have to add, “I’ve thought about it but haven’t really decided what I want to get.” Then, not ready to let him win yet, I ask, “What did you bring a camera for?”

He licks the front of my briefs and laughs. “I’m a cam whore, Brandon. You know that.” When I don’t reply, he says, “I wasn’t going to put them online.”

“What were you going to do with them?” I want to know.

He shrugs, a move that settles him on my lap, and his tongue licks out again, rubbing insistently at the slit in my cockhead. “Just get off on them later,” he tells me. He kisses me through the briefs, his lips now working my hard length. “If you come now,” he asks, “can you come again later when we fuck?”

“We’re still arguing,” I point out.

Damien grins against my crotch. “No, we’re not.”

I’m not so ready to give in. “Why didn’t you tell me about the camera before?”

Another shrug—he’s infuriating. “I didn’t know the flash would go off.”

“Damien!” I push him away but in one fluid movement, he slides off the bed and stands in front of me. Unzips his jeans, hooks his thumbs into the waistband, pushes both jeans and underwear to the ground. Steps out of the clothes, an uncut dick jutting from the swirl of black hair at his crotch, his eyes never leaving mine. He pins me in place with that stare like headlights in the night. I don’t realize he’s climbing onto me until he eases me to the bed, and then it’s too late to hold him back. “Damien, no,” I try, but my hands touch his flat stomach and find their own way up the narrow plane of his body, over the tattooed vine that trails from his navel to circle around one hard nipple, over his shoulders to cradle his jaw in my palms as I pull him in for another kiss. His lips glance off mine to suck at a sensitive spot behind my ear and I sigh into the sheet of his hair that tickles beneath my nose. “You’re evil,” I tell him.

He laughs, a little breathless, and says, “You like it.” His hands rub along my sides, pushing my shirt up out of the way, and then he sits down on my throbbing crotch, pulls the shirt off over my head, tosses it aside. He fingers the camera beside us on the bed. “Can I?” he asks.

I want to say no, but I don’t want to lose what we have between us, this moment or the past three weeks or how he makes me feel, the surge I get whenever I see his name in my inbox, the strangling rush of lust when he looks my way. “Swear to me that the pictures don’t go online.”

His smile is promise enough. “You’re so sexy,” he tells me as he brings the camera to his face. I try not to feel self-conscious when the flash goes off, but I still feel exposed and vulnerable and not a little bit used. As if he knows this, Damien rocks above me, rubbing his ass against my still-hidden dick. “Smile for me,” he says.