8. Carter

EIGHT

We suffereda loss on our first night in Chicago. While Beckett raged in the locker room, Nate was the voice of reason, telling us not to let one failure define us any more than we would let a victory make us complacent. There was a wisdom to that, but the morale in the locker room was at its lowest point.

Personally, I was finding it hard to care. Not that I hadn't done my best in the first period before Nate pulled me in favor of Kieran, who was arguably the better choice between the two of us in the circumstances. I'd missed a few drills over the last week. Even if that hadn't impacted my performance, playing with the team felt odd when I had mentally unplugged for so long.

I didn't want to let the team down, but I preferred other players taking my place. Especially if their hearts were in the game, unlike mine.

Last night, I had experienced something I'd never expected to happen to me. Sure, the crowd was small, and Nate's presence left me feeling all sorts of ways — I couldn't decide between being humbled, embarrassed, and aroused by the admiration in his eyes if I were being honest — but playing on the stage was easily the most alive I had felt in years.

Ron had filmed the whole thing and posted the clip on his Instagram. His following was mostly made up of girls he'd impressed as a high school hockey player, but the video circulated to our team, and the looks I got were flattering. They regarded me a little differently today. They had seen me do something they hadn't realized I could, and it made me more relevant in a way.

I didn't hate feeling relevant. I didn't hate answering questions about where I'd learned to do those things.

The last time I had truly felt this way while playing hockey had been in my first year of high school, but that was partly due to the fact that I was a Prince, and not just any Prince, but Dana Prince's own son.

I had a plain water at the bar after the game. Ron was grumbling about the risks of ordering a beer in an unfamiliar place. To me, it was all the same. I was simply passing the time with the team that was in a rotten mood. So, when I left the guys behind and stalked the streets on my way back to the hotel, I was relieved not to have the chatter filling my ears.

I didn't know what I would do next. I knew what my heart was set on, but I also knew how hard it was. Dad had mentioned more than once how my comfort depended on my performance, but I doubted that performing on a stage qualified me to live off of his wealth. Would he cut me off completely? Send me to make my own way in the world? And was that the worst thing that could happen to me?

By the time I returned to the hotel, the seed of a single thought had sprouted into a compulsion. As I entered the lobby, I was growing more certain of what I couldn't keep doing. I just couldn't. Not for all the money in the world. Not for all of my father's conditional love.

I sat on a small, elegant chair in the lobby and pulled my phone out. After watching the video on Ron's profile, I knew what to do next. And until I began typing it, I didn't realize that the entire message I wanted to write was already penned to the last dot in my brain. It was the easiest email of my life.

I stepped out of the elevator and halted. In front of me, his broad back was packed in a tight black shirt, his narrow waist calling me to wrap my arms around him, and his firm ass was hugged by the perfectly fitting pair of dark gray pants. Nate Partridge. The man who had a million reasons to push me away, none of which had anything to do with not wanting me.

He was shoveling ice into a metal bucket when I cleared my throat. "Getting our asses kicked is thirsty business," I said.

He looked over his shoulder, a knowing smirk on his face.

"Are you having champagne?" I asked.

"Whiskey," he said. "On the rocks."

I shuddered. "I don't have what it takes to drink those."

"Good. I wasn't going to offer any." He narrowed his eyes in playful suspicion. "Shouldn't you be with the team?"

"I quit the team," I said before I knew I would. Oddly enough, my coach was the only person I could tell this to. He was the only person who would understand, even if he pretended we had nothing in common.

"Carter," he whispered as he turned to me. The ice bucket was half-full. I doubted he could drink so much whiskey unless he planned to pass out, but that wasn't the Nate I knew. "Are you sure you wanted this?" He didn't say it in a way that suggested I was rushing — far from it. He was simply asking, one adult to another.

I nodded. "Absolutely." The fear that rippled through me must have shown on my face. Nate frowned, but I spoke before he could. "It's funny. I couldn't get rid of this need to quit it. So much of it feels wrong to me that I can't believe I even played tonight." After a moment of silence, I added, "Thanks for pulling me. I wasn't enjoying it."

"It's official?" Nate asked, leaning against the wall.

"I emailed the administration office half an hour ago. They'll see it in the morning, and I'll be off the team when they process my request for transfer." I hadn't realized how detailed my plans had been until I filed the request. I knew which subjects to drop and which to take on. The semester was still only starting, and it wasn't too late to change subjects with most of the professors. I had checked those dates weeks ago with no clear plan in my mind. It wasn't just luck. "Your ice is melting, Nate."

He looked at the bucket and cursed under his breath. "Let me drop this off." He walked away from me, but I followed.

My fingertips tingled as I walked after him. The floor beneath my feet felt like sponge or wool, like clouds. I walked despite knowing what he would tell me. But how bad could it be? He would send me away. Nothing new there. I was becoming an expert at being rejected.

Tonight was the night to reach for all the things I doubted could be mine.

Nate must have heard my footsteps trailing him, but he didn't look over his shoulder. His slow trodding down the hallway only added to the suspense, but it wasn't the scary kind. My chest felt light, as if someone had filled my lungs with helium, and I teetered on the verge of floating away.

He swiped his card key, and the lock clicked on the heavy wooden door. He pushed it, his arm flexing in the tight shirt, and stepped inside. When he pushed the card key into the slot by the door, dim lights came on.

My fingers trembled when I held the door and let myself inside. Any moment now, he would sigh and tell me to go away. He would remind me who my father was to him, act like he was a hundred years old, and tell me how inappropriate this was. I didn't care. I was quitting things left and right. I might as well quit listening to Nate's faulty logic. Plenty of guys a decade older than him dated girls my age. Nobody cared. What was so different about us, then?

Until he told me he didn't want anything to do with me, I held on to hope.

The door shut behind my back. "Nice room," I said, looking around. The room was not a room at all but an apartment. Students had their quarters on the same floor but in another wing. Each room had two beds and the bare necessities. Not Nate's. And I knew this wasn't coming from Northwood's budget but his own pocket. No college coach would want this.

The elegantly decorated interior of the living room was lit by discreetly placed lamps. Armchairs and a sofa surrounded a sleek coffee table made of dark wood. A large, black TV was mounted onto the wall to my left, and around it were shelves holding various pieces of decoration and books. Two doors were on each side of the wall to my right, one open, revealing a neatly made large bed, and the other shut. I assumed it was the bathroom unless Nate Partridge had a private sauna.

The idea made my heart skip. I wouldn't have minded going into a sauna with him.

"It's much nicer than my own place," Nate agreed. "I keep forgetting to decorate."

"That doesn't surprise me," I said.

He put the bucket of ice into the minifridge after tossing a couple of cubes into a glass. He didn't look at me once while pouring himself a shot of whiskey. After his drink was ready, he bent down to the mini fridge and produced a Diet Coke for me. Finally, he turned to face me as he handed me the can.

"What's your plan?" he asked.

I knew he wasn't asking me about my plans for the evening. And if he had, I wouldn't have revealed them. They depended on each decision we made and each word we shared from now until later. "General courses this semester. I'll study hard and make the professors notice me. I've never been classically trained, so I'll take some music theory classes privately to prepare myself for next semester. Hopefully, I can impress someone enough to bend the rules a little. If not, I'll just wait for next fall and start over. I don't mind losing a year." I cracked the can open and sipped my soda while Nate carried his glass to the coffee table and seated himself on the sofa. I followed carefully, wondering if sitting next to him was too forward. What else can he do to me? I risked it even as my heart lurched. "I'll play any gig I can get."

Nate listened to me. He didn't poke holes in my plan, even though we both knew a lot depended on luck. He didn't discourage me. He didn't act like I was sharing some childish dreams with him. "Rigby did well with that video," he suggested after a time, his gaze on my eyes so intense that I swore I could feel its weight.

"That, too," I agreed. "We're nothing without a little bit of online whoring."

Nate barked a laugh and shook his head, and it was scary how proud I was that I'd made that happen. I rubbed my open palm against my pants, wiping off the sudden slickness of perspiration.

I could sense his proximity in more ways than one. He was there, next to me, with all his glorious beauty and the heat radiating from his body. He was mostly facing me aside from one leg that he stretched away from me.

"I hate to lose a good player," Nate said carefully. "But it would be worse to cage you and force you to play against your will."

I bit my lip and looked into his eyes. The quiet moment that followed made me aware of my own heartbeat. "On the upside, you're not my coach anymore."

A tremor passed over his brow, his eyebrows curving for an instant before he smoothed his expression. I could see the tension in the way he gripped his knee with one hand. "I'm still college staff, Carter. It changes nothing."

"I'll drop out," I offered.

"Why would you do that?" he demanded in a tone that was abruptly loud and frustrated.

His voice triggered my annoyance, and I held nothing back. "Don't act like you don't know."

Hastily, Nate lifted his hand from his knee and rubbed his face. "This is wrong, Carter. All of this is wrong. You're putting me in an impossible position."

"Because you like me, too?" I asked, my voice thin and high.

He pressed his lips tightly. I saw now that the anger this caused wasn't simply because I was annoyingly forward. He did like me. The sparks flaring from his eyes weren't fueled by hate. They were sad, in part, but they were also lustful. I had always wanted him to look at me this way.

"Because you know we are the two sides of the same coin," I said, putting my Coke on the table and shifting to face him with my whole body. In doing so, I gained an inch or two of space between us. "We keep running from the truth, Nate. But I'm done running. It's fucking liberating to tell you this."

"Carter, I'm…"

"If you say you're too old one more time, Nate, I swear to God…" I rolled my eyes at him and still leaned in a little closer.

"But I am," he said firmly. I wondered what it cost him to keep doing this. The beads of sweat on his forehead were telling enough that his resolve was beginning to crack.

"And Dana's your oldest friend. I know, I know." I pouted for only a second. "You keep flinging these reasons at me, Nate, but I'm done playing by anyone's rules."

"Even if they're my rules?" he asked in a voice slightly louder than a whisper. He closed his eyes while a frown creased the space between his eyebrows.

"I would if they were really yours," I admitted. "But they're not. It's your loyalty to my dad and some foolish idea that you're doing me a favor. I don't believe it."

His lower lip trembled, and I could feel my heart splitting for him.

I put my hand over his, expecting him to jerk it back and send me away at any moment, but he didn't. He was still and silent, not even breathing.

"If you tell me there's no chance at all, I'll believe you," I said. It was a gamble, but I would respect the outcome. "Not even the slightest chance. If you really think that, I'll get up and go away. I won't bother you again."

"You're not bothering me," he whispered.

I needed a second to still my heart a little. "So you don't think it's totally doomed."

He opened his eyes, and a storm of emotions was raging in them. "Do you have any idea how hard you're making this?"

"Tell me," I dared him.

He flipped his hand over, suddenly controlling my wrist. It made my stomach leap to be at his mercy. "If you can think that I'm immune to someone as sweet and good-looking as you, Carter, then you don't consider me human. But that's not what you actually think, right? You think I'll cave in if you push hard enough."

I nodded. My breaths were too shallow to let me speak at all.

His grip on my wrist tightened, and he leaned closer. "You keep teasing me, flirting with me, torturing me." His face was getting closer to mine. His smooth, clear skin still had a bit of that summer tan. His cologne crawled into my nostrils, reminding me of a forest breeze in the mountains. "Do you have any idea what that does to me? I'm trying to do the right thing, Carter. I'm trying to be a good person, but even I have a limit to what I can take."

I bit my lip hard. With every word he said, the distance between us closed. I realized that I was leaning in, too. The room was getting hotter every second. Or it was my body that was heating up. I gazed into his eyes and read the pained expression as the full admission. "I don't want you to obey the rules, Nathan," I whispered. Where he gripped my wrist, my skin burned.

"We're screwed, Carter," he whispered and looked at me as if he was asking me for one final confirmation.

I don't care, I might have said. At this point, I no longer knew where the line was between dreams and reality. I only knew that I was questing with my other hand to feel the bulging pec under the black shirt, my torso leaning in, head looking up. When I brought my lips a fraction of an inch away from his, I paused. This moment before the contact, the suspense of something incredible about to happen, turned me on as hard as the act itself.

But when Nate released my wrist and pressed his hand against the back of my head, my world turned upside down. In the time it took my heart to beat once, the suspense reached an unbearable height, only to snap like a rubber band when Nate smashed his mouth against mine.

My heart beat so hard I half expected it to break out of my rib cage. Nate's hand was firm on the back of my head, fingers dragging up the cropped hair on the back and rising into the longer hair on top. His lips were heated, and the faint scent of whiskey made him ten times sexier. The warm, wet tongue that ventured from his mouth into mine was sexy enough to make me want to pass out. I welcomed it, parting my lips and letting my tongue brush against his, battling him playfully while he kissed me hard enough to suck the soul out of my body.

I shifted on the sofa to be closer to him, my chest touching his, and I moved my hands to feel his upper back. His muscles were tight and hard, his breath like a shudder when he pulled his head away to exhale. His deep, rumbling voice was like a distant thunder as he pressed his brow against mine. At that moment, I pushed his upper back hard to make our bodies press closer.

"What are we doing, Carter?" he whispered.

"Whatever the hell we want," I said, lifting my ass off the sofa and pushing Nate back until we tumbled down flat. He sprawled on the sofa, and I lay on top of him. I wiggled my hands from under his torso and pressed them against his chest. I could feel his pounding heart under my right hand when I leaned down and kissed him again.

He didn't fight me. Instead, his muscular arms wrapped around my body, pressing me tightly against him. If I had doubted him being attracted to me before, I couldn't doubt it any longer. My crotch pressed against his, and I felt his excitement bulging in his pants. He was hard as marble when he pushed his hips up, rubbing his crotch against mine.

It dragged a moan out of me when I felt how stiff his cock was.

"Fuck, Carter," he whispered. "You're killing me." He quickly pressed his lips against mine again, rubbing himself from beneath me, kissing me, sighing over my lips while I moaned and groped to feel as much of his body as I could.

Since the moment I realized I had tripped and fallen hard for this man, I had only the big library of photos that online magazines shared. And aside from running into him in the locker room that one time, I had never had a chance to truly admire his physique. I was hell-bent on drinking it all in now.

Before I knew it, I had undone the top button of his tight black shirt. The next one popped a moment later as I crawled against him to sit on his crotch. It dragged a growl from his throat when I settled my weight against his hard cock. I only wished we were naked already, but I could be patient for a few more minutes.

As I ran my fingers down the middle of his torso, revealing his smooth skin and chiseled body, I became light-headed. My focus narrowed to exclude everything else in the room. All I saw was Nate's body; his flesh was revealed in inches until I dragged the hems of the shirt out of his pants and spread it over his torso.

Nate sat up, nearly tipping me onto my back, and shrugged his shirt off. His bare arms wrapped around me to support my torso while I hooked my fingers under my T-shirt. As I pulled it over my head, my heart stumbled. Was this really happening? Was I making out with my biggest crush and the man who had acted like he would rather die than give in? It felt like taking a deep dive into warm water and then swimming freely toward the surface.

When I threw my T-shirt onto the floor, Nate moved around and was on top of me before I could yelp. I fell back on the sofa, and this gorgeous man towered over me. He lowered his hips until they rested over mine, his abdomen only lightly touching my bare body, and he pressed his fists into the seat of the sofa on either side of my head. Looking into my eyes, he paused. The sadness was gone. Anger, too. What was left was pure attraction with only a sliver of concern. "Are you sure about this, Carter?"

"I've never been so sure about anything in my life," I said, and it wasn't a lie.

"Oh, God," he whispered. "I want you."

"I want you," I echoed quietly as our bodies melted into one another. His torso pressed against mine as he lowered his head and kissed me as passionately as I had never been kissed. Somehow, I knew a moment of pride that I had been right when I imagined that Nate was a good kisser. He could pace it so perfectly that I was never bored. He kissed me gently and passionately in turns, thrusting his tongue to explore my mouth when his lust ran wild, then pulling back and feeling my lips and face with his mouth.

"You're such a beautiful young man," he whispered while my hands traveled the length and width of his back. And when I dared to reach lower to grab his ass, he grunted he slammed his mouth over mine, kissing me harder.

More, I thought. I want so much more.

Sliding my hands under the waistband of his underwear and pants, I felt the warm skin of his ass, but that wasn't where my interests lay. I could appreciate a nicely shaped peach, but it was his cock I lusted after.

And when I succeeded in moving my hands over his hips and to the front, Nate's breathing sped up.

Flutters exploded all through my body when my fingers found his thick cock, and he throbbed. When I wrapped my hand around it, my pulse doubled, and I moaned in a high-pitched voice with all the desperation rocking my body.

Nate pushed himself away, and my hands fell out, but only briefly. He unbuckled his belt and pulled it out, tossing it on the floor. As he pulled the zipper down and undid the top button, my mouth watered with desire. All my dreams were coming true in the span of a single hour. If only I were brave enough to demand what I wanted, I could get it. If I had the courage to fight for it and the patience to fail at it, it would ultimately be mine.

He pulled his pants down to reveal a pair of black boxer briefs. His dick pitched a tent of intimidating size, lifting the fabric off his right hip. He wore a determined expression on his face as he lifted each knee and pulled his pants down, then yanked them off completely.

My heated breaths made my chest rise and fall quicker than I would have liked.

"Are you nervous?" Nate purred, his hands resting on my legs.

I undid my zipper and button, too, and slowly peeled the pants down my legs. When they were around my knees, Nate took over, dragging the denim all the way down. "I'm not," I said. But as he threw my pants on the floor and began dragging his hands up my smooth legs, I knew a moment of anxiety. Please don't be a size queen, I prayed silently in an instant that filled me with worry. It was not a thing that ever bothered me unless it bothered him. But when his finger hooked inside the waistband of my underwear, I decided I had nothing to worry about. Whatever happened next was out of my control.

Nate pulled my briefs down, and his eyes widened with interest, his face hard and neck stiff. "Carter," he whispered. "You are so perfect."

At just over four inches, my dick stood at full mast, throbbing with desire, leaping at his sweet, sexy voice. I had gone through periods when I totally lacked confidence because of it, but the older I got, the less it mattered. The real fun for me wasn't in playing with my dick at all. But I had never heard anyone call me perfect quite like this. "You like this?"

He gave a firm nod. "I like it very much," he said, unrestrained lust rippling across his face and riding his voice. He dragged my briefs off my legs and tossed them onto the back of the sofa while I clawed for his boxer briefs. It wasn't fair that I was the only one naked. Not when seeing him without any clothes was the wish I'd had for the longest time.

Nate didn't fight back. He let me sit up and pull his boxer briefs down, but I chose to do it slowly, applying tension much the same way I had done with my guitar last night. The waistband pulled his big cock down until he hissed, his abs growing even more pronounced as he flexed them. And when the waistband slipped over his cock, it sprang up, swinging under its own weight for one delicious moment before pulsing and stiffening.

My hand was around it in an instant. It was twice my size, if not more, thick and with a slick head. The short-cropped hair around it was dark and coarse, and Nate's balls were thick and heavy, making my mouth water hard.

It took me a moment to force my gaze away from his crotch and to his face. "You're perfect, too."

Nate swallowed and cupped the right side of my face with his left hand. His thumb brushed my cheek, then dragged over my lips. "What do you want me to do to you?"

The words ran through me like an electric current. "Everything."

He swung his hips slowly forward, pushing his dick through my fist. With his hand, he lifted my chin, and our gazes locked on one another. "I'm not going to fuck you tonight," he said firmly. "Not because I don't want to." The throbbing thickness in my fist assured me he was telling the truth. "I just don't like rushing things."

It sounded as close to a promise of another time as I would get from this man. But it was more than enough. "Let me suck it, then," I said.

Nate bent down and kissed me hard, his hands finding my hips. He pulled me down the length of the sofa and pressed his mouth against mine so hard that it made me lean back until I was lying flat on the sofa.

I inhaled a deep breath of air, puffing out my chest, as Nate pulled away from me. He stood up, his cock swinging above me and torso towering over me. His underwear fell around his ankles, and he stepped out of it, then approached the sofa again. When he stopped, I knew what we were doing, and my heart hammered harder than ever in anticipation.

I wrapped my right hand around my dick, holding it in a tight grip as if to force it to calm down. It wouldn't. The tightness in my balls and the almost painful erection were holding me on the very edge of an orgasm, and I still hadn't even licked him. Fuck. I wanted to lick him so much that I was sure I would die if I didn't get a chance.

Nate lowered himself by my head, one hand reaching over to pull my right hand away from myself. As he knelt on the edge of the sofa, I opened my mouth wide and found his gaze. For a few moments, I breathed deeply through my mouth, my left hand rising to hold him just as he leaned in.

At the exact instant when the swollen tip of his precum-slicked cock touched my lips and slipped into my mouth, I held my breath. The flavors of his precum exploded over my taste buds; their sweet and salty quality, combined with Nate's faint musk, enchanted me and made me willing to fight the whole world for him.

As Nate sank into my mouth, he shifted so that he knelt on each side of my head, slightly above. And when he dipped deeper into me, grunting with tension, he also lowered his head and torso. "Such a perfect cock," he purred. "So beautiful."

His words turned me on nearly as much as his dick in my mouth did. He pulled his hips away from me, letting me inhale before he sank into me deeper. I needed a few moments to relax my throat, but I was confident in my skills, and Nate was patient enough, probing me lightly, testing the limits.

Simultaneously, he pressed his lips against my lower abdomen, his hot breath washing over my bare skin until his mouth dragged over my shaved private area and found my small cock. Exhaling over it, Nate wrapped his lips around me and swallowed me whole.

The wet warmth of his mouth sent the most incredible sensation through my body. My throat relaxed, loosening enough to let his cock slide deeper into me. In turn, it made Nate grunt when he impaled my head like this, and the vibration of his voice ran through my groin.

My thighs pressed together, rubbing against one another while I made my head move up, mouth gaping to swallow as much of his as I could.

My throat constricted now and again by sheer reflex, making Nate shudder hard enough that I could feel it on my body. And as I wrapped my arms around his waist, I forced him to stay inside of me for longer than he would have. He was careful still, not expecting that I knew precisely what I wanted.

His warm mouth worked my cock slowly as if he knew I was moments away from blowing up. He sucked me, his soft tongue rubbing against the sensitive tip of my dick, his lips sealed around the base. I couldn't do that to him. He was too big for my lips to seal so tightly and for me to suck the air out of my mouth. Instead, I pulled him down on me, making him fuck my throat in short, jerky motions. It made a strangely loud noise, wet, sloshing, making me choke and gag now and again.

As his breathing sped up, I only tightened my arms harder around his waist, pulling him in to torture myself in the sexiest way I could imagine. His balls pressed against my nose as he rammed himself deep into me, sending me into the wild frenzy of my orgasm.

I managed to move a hand along his back and tap his shoulder in warning, but Nate's acknowledgment was to suck me harder.

I whimpered in short bursts of noise while he swung his hips back and forth, sucking me faster until my dick pulsed and cum filled his hot mouth.

I pressed my thighs harder together, wiggling under his carefully placed weight and thrusting my hips up to stuff his mouth. And when my dick calmed down, he kept sucking it, only pulling his mouth away to groan and growl. "Fuck," he said hoarsely after swallowing. "You're making me…" He grunted, and I wrapped my arms around his waist again to make sure he didn't ruin this by playing a gentleman. I wanted him to feed me, and I was going to get it.

Nate moaned and cried in a tight, deep voice, his body stiffening all over as he hurriedly thrust his dick down my throat. And when he pulsed, the heat of his cum flooded my body. It spilled into me, over my tongue, and down my throat as he emptied himself to the last drop.

He pulled out hurriedly, his strength outmatching mine, and I had no choice but to release his waist. As he slid off me, he knelt completely on the floor by the sofa. The speed with which he did was almost like he was panicking, but when he brought his face close to mine, his eyes didn't seem worried at all. He gazed at me, his breathing quick like mine, and licked his lips.

For a moment, I wondered if some kind of clarity would kick in and if he would tell me this was all a mistake. But I should have known better than to doubt him, even if it was for half a heartbeat. Instead of ripping my heart out, Nate simply leaned in and pressed his mouth against mine.

I wished I knew if tasting himself on me excited him as much as it did me.

His kiss was still passionate, wet, and sloppy, and it gave me life. His breathing was calming down, and he rose slowly to the sofa. I scooted to make room for him, but Nate still wrapped himself around me like the hard, protective shell around a nut. He cuddled me while kissing my cheek.

"So," I whispered, barely able to produce sounds while my soul drifted through the skies. "That happened."

"It was…" His voice trailed in favor of a particularly affectionate kiss on my left eye just as I closed it.

"It was," I agreed. I struggled to find the right word to say, but the tightness with which we held one another spoke loudly enough. It said clearly just how pleased we both were. It had been incredible. It felt right in all the ways. And it was good enough for us to risk so much. Or perhaps the risk was just another spice.

When we turned around so that Nate lay on his back and I sprawled over him, I ran my fingers up and down his body. Even soft, his dick was big. Mine was even smaller.

"You really didn't mind my…" I stopped, finding it suddenly hard to say it. "Some guys…"

"Some guys are assholes," Nate said with more heart in it than I'd expected. He was otherwise appearing pretty drowsy in that irresistible laziness that set in after all the passion. "And if you point me to them, I'll break their noses."

It wasn't surprising that his words turned me on. It was somewhere deep in my chest that the sensation unfolded.

"And I, uh…" He turned to look into my eyes. "I prefer your size. I think it's hot." The redness rose in his cheeks.

I laughed out loud. "You're really struggling with the fact that I'm me."

He shook his head. "It's not like that." Still, he pondered on it for a short while. "I know you're not the same Carter I used to know. But this is still a dangerous game we're playing."

I folded my lips and licked them. "Nobody needs to know."

He gave me a gentle look that said no secret was ever kept secret forever. But if anyone could keep a secret, it was Nate Partridge. I knew that from all the years when I didn't know he was gay.

Still, he said nothing to dispel the magic of the moment. We both knew it was time for me to leave, but I wanted to cling to him forever. And since I couldn't get forever, I chose to cling to him for another heartbeat.

And another.

We lay there in silence, naked, in the mess that we made and didn't regret. His gentle caressing of my arm and the side of my rib cage made me coil against him until a few minutes passed.

"This isn't the last time, is it?" I asked, knowing I had to get up. It felt like leaving a happy home forever.

"No," Nate said. "I really don't think it is." What he didn't say was that it would make no difference whether it was or wasn't. We had breached the codes and broken trusts for the sake of the most beautiful night of my life.

I hoped he would agree that it was all worth it.