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But first, I needed to admit the truth to myself, and that truth was that Nolan Harding was more to me than some thorn in my side, pain in the ass arch nemesis.
He was the match and I was the fuse.
Nolan leaned into my space, the couch creaking just a bit as his motion drew me closer into him, like quicksand.
Nolan reached out a shaky hand, sliding his fingers in my hair softly, gripping as if he were afraid I would disappear at any moment.
Like he was afraid of upsetting the delicate balance of the cliff we were both on.
I slid my hand up and down his thigh, trying to reassure him the best way I knew how that this was what I wanted, because I couldn’t speak. I could only focus on feeling him beneath my fingertips, because I didn’t want him to disappear either.
I pulled him closer, the position once again putting him in my lap, and Nolan let out a sigh that cut straight through to my heart, my cock, and my feeble Nolan-obsessed brain.
“I kinda like you too, Dawson,” he whispered, his breath warm on the edge of my lips, and I didn’t wait.
I closed the space between us without warning, tasting his sweet lips and the remains of sticky sugar on my tongue.
Nolan let out a contented sigh as he relaxed into my hold, his fingertips tightening their grip in my hair. I let my tongue stroke his, exploring his mouth like it was uncharted territory.
And in a way it was, because this kiss wasn’t rushed or surprising like the last time.
It was deep, and warm, and new and I never wanted to stop. I wanted to die in that kiss on my couch, with Nolan in my arms, wearing my goddamn sweatpants.
My cock throbbed, and I groaned in response, knowing if we didn’t stop now, I’d fucking own this man before he’d finished his dessert, and cold s’mores did not go down as well.
I broke away, regrettably, my gaze settling on his swollen lips, on his bright eyes and the way his lips turned up in the corners into a smile.
“But I also like warm s’mores, not cold ones, so let’s not let my grade A baking skills go to waste, okay?” I teased.
Dawson blushed a bit as he nodded. “Yeah, yeah, of course, where are my manners?” he taunted me as he languidly reached over my fucking lap, right over my throbbing cock, to grab another delicacy.
Such a fucking brat.
He shot me a dark look as he bit into his s’more, groaning louder this time, making a show of it, if only to irritate the hell out of me.
And it worked.
“Now, be a good boy and eat your dessert and maybe I’ll reward you.’
Nolan stared back at me as he took another bite, some stray marshmallow fluff spreading across his lips. I shifted my position on the couch as I reached for the last s’more, if only to hide my erection at the moment. I didn’t want a repeat of last time.
No this time, I’d get it right. Because Nolan was more than a good boy.
He was fucking perfect, and I wasn’t going to let him forget it.
CHAPTER 25
Nolan
I’d just turned off the faucet in the kitchen, after rinsing the plate our s’mores were served on, when Dawson spoke up.
“Come to bed with me,” he said the words warmly.
I stopped drying my hands on the dishtowel. It hadn’t been addressed exactly, where I would be sleeping. I’d assumed it would be the couch.
“I can sleep on the couch, it’s fine.”
“You are not sleeping on the couch,” Dawson said, shaking his head. “That thing will kill your back and then some. You can sleep with me, my bed is more than big enough to fit us both, and I promise you, I don’t bite, and I’m not going to try anything,” he pledged as he held his hands up. “Unless, you want me to. But that’s up to you, champ.”
