Chapter Twelve

Twelve

Lucas

Shawn and I spend most of the day in bed. It feels like I can’t get enough of him. Like moments when he’s not in my arms are moments wasted. I miss him when he gets up to take a call and when he puts on coffee. I miss him when he goes to take a shower.

When he comes back from the bathroom, he finds me still in his bed, immersed in the photos on his camera. I’d seen his website detailing his availability and specialties, but I didn’t look through a lot of his portfolio. Now I wish I had.

“These are incredible,” I say when he crawls back into the bed with me wearing only boxers.

“Thanks.” He blushes. “But it’s just pointing a camera.”

“It’s not just that or else we’d all be photographers. I’ve only just now mastered keeping my thumb out of the way when I take a photo.”

He laughs and moves closer to me, snuggling into my side. “You’d make a great subject too. Especially like this.” He trails a finger down my chest, warming my skin. “Though I doubt my camera would be able to do you justice.”

“What? You need to broaden your portfolio?”

“Are you kidding me? The pictures I want to take of you wouldn’t be suited to post online.”

“Oh really?” I glance down at the camera one more time before handing it to him. “Go ahead.”

His eyebrows rise. “What? Are you serious?”

“Yeah, why not? It’s not like you’ll show them to anyone.”

“Of course I wouldn’t.” He takes the camera, already fiddling with the lens. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah. I trust you.”

He gives me a shy smile, then slides out of the bed to pull his jeans back on. “Okay, but promise to tell me if I suggest doing something you don’t want to do.”

“I will.” I seriously doubt he would suggest something I’m not comfortable with, but I can tell the idea of doing that worries him, so I admit the rest to him. “I’m really loving the idea of you thinking about me every time you pick your camera up after tonight.”

His eyes darken with lust. “That’s definitely going to happen.”

My cock starts to harden, and it only gets worse as I watch Shawn slip into professional photographer mode. He moves things around the room to ensure the best lighting, changes out his camera lens, then comes back to the bed.

He’s all business as he moves a pillow behind me, making me slouch back a little more. Then he pulls the blanket down just enough to show the trail of hair leading toward my cock. When he leans back, he lets his fingers brush over my dick, and I suck in a breath.

“You know, professional models really aren’t supposed to get hard-ons during shoots,” Shawn says.

“Yeah, well, they will when their photographer is as fucking hot as you are.”

He shushes me, but he’s smiling when he heads back to the foot of the bed. His hands are steady as he lifts the camera and focuses it on me.

A small part of me expected to feel a little nervous or self-conscious, but Shawn makes me feel at ease. Of course, that does nothing to soften my dick. By the time Shawn comes back to the head of the bed to adjust the blanket again, I’m rock-hard.

Shawn tsks as he pulls the blanket down. “Roll over onto your stomach to hide that.”

“Shawn…”

“You’re the one who suggested photos,” he reminds me, a smile in his voice. “Turn over. And try not to hump the mattress.”

I obey him even though it nearly kills me. As soon as the pressure of the mattress touches my dick, I want to get some friction going. Especially when Shawn pulls the blanket down, and I can feel him staring at me. Then I hear him adjusting the camera lens, and he snaps a picture.

“You have a fucking amazing ass,” Shawn says, his voice low. He pulls the sheet down so my leg closest to him is bare. “Turn your head to the wall and slide your arms underneath your pillow.”

I do as he says, listening to his soft footfalls retreat as he backs away from the bed. I lie there for what feels like forever as my dick slowly gets harder and harder, trapped between my body and the mattress.

Then finally, Shawn speaks. “Roll onto your back again. And jerk yourself off.”

“Fucking finally,” I growl, turning over instantly. I wipe the tip of my dick to get some moisture, then wrap my hand around my shaft, squeezing just tight enough as I pump. The thought of Shawn watching me do this—photographing me doing this—is only making me work myself faster.

“Turn just a little toward me,” Shawn orders quietly.

I barely hear him over the blood rushing in my ears, but I arch my back so I can turn my body slightly toward him.

“That’s it,” Shawn praises. I’m vaguely aware of him moving around the room, shooting from different angles, but I’m lost in the orgasm building inside me. All I can picture is Shawn’s mouth wrapped around me. Shawn under me, writhing in pleasure. Shawn on top of me, riding me like his life depends on it.

I’m so close when suddenly, a hand touches mine tentatively. My eyes fly open, and I stare up at Shawn.

“Can I?” he asks softly.

It takes everything in me to release my hold, but I do it. Because the thought of him touching me is far better than doing it to myself.

Shawn sets the camera down on the nightstand before wrapping his fingers around me. His touch is steady and sure and warm. I arch up into it immediately, just like I did when he did this when we were teens. He was the first person to ever touch me there, and I’ve never forgotten it.

“I missed you,” Shawn whispers, keeping his hold on me even as he climbs onto the bed, settling between my legs.

“I missed you too,” I murmur, surprised I can even string together a sentence with the pressure he’s using on me. He flicks his wrist, tightening his hold at the base of shaft, and my balls tighten. My orgasm slams into me, and I come hard into Shawn’s hand, my hips bucking uncontrollably.

“That’s it,” Shawn whispers. “Give all of it to me. I want every drop from you.”

He keeps pumping me until I’m completely spent, boneless on the mattress. Only then does he stop and lean over to grab the tissues off the nightstand. I reach to help him, but he brushes my hand aside and cleans me carefully. He used to do that when we were teenagers too. Never gave me the chance to return the favor.

When he’s done, he leans forward and gives me a sweet, slow kiss. He presses a hand to my chest and sits back enough to look at me, his lips pulled up in a smile. “You’re a good subject.”

I grip his hips, hating the denim that separates my hands from touching his bare skin. “That was some pretty unprofessional photographing there.”

His smile widens. “How was I supposed to take professional pictures when all my lens would focus on was your massive dick?”

I slide my hands to the front of his jeans and pull the zipper down. When his cock springs free, I run my thumb along the tip, admiring the way Shawn shudders beneath my touch. “Remember when you told me I could fuck you for all the times I wanted to and you weren’t there for me?”

His eyes close as he nods, thrusting just a little deeper against my hand.

“You know I didn’t have sex with anyone for a long, long time after you left? You pretty much ruined me for anyone else.” I tighten my grip on him just enough for him to know how good I could make him feel. Then I relax it, and he groans and opens his eyes to look at me.

“I said I was sorry,” he huffs, shifting his ass impatiently.

“Not really feeling the remorse,” I tease, running my thumb over the tip of his cock again.

“Lucas,” he whines. “Please.”

“Please what?”

He shifts again, silently nudging his cock a little further not my hand, but I don’t do anything in return.

Shawn glares down at me, his cheeks dusted with pink. “Please touch me. I need to feel you.”

I should keep teasing him, draw it out so I have more time to play with his body. But his eyes are wide and filled with desperation. And I want to be the one to take all of that away from him. I want him to remember that when he asks me, there’s very little I wouldn’t give him.

His eyes flutter closed again as I start stroking him in earnest this time, relishing the way he bites his bottom lip. He tries to stay still for a few seconds, but soon he gets lost in the feel of it, his hips bucking. He lifts up off me more than once, and I slide my free hand down the back of his pants, squeezing his ass.

“Lucas.” My name falls from his lips in a whisper as I pull his cheek enough to nudge his entrance with my finger.

“I’m here,” I murmur. “Open your eyes, Shawn. Look at the guy who’s jerking you off right now.”

His eyes fly open, and he holds my gaze as I push my finger deep into him. His mouth opens on a silent moan, his hips stuttering. I stroke him through his orgasm as he shudders, feeling his inner muscles constricting over and over around my finger. I don’t let up until I’m sure he’s empty. Until he starts to whimper.

I sit up and pull him close as he comes back down, wishing we could stay this way forever.