Page 90 of Line Change

He gets one of my shirt buttons open and stops to put his mouth against the skin underneath. I pull his shirt over his head, but his arms get caught for a second and he laughs against my chest. The sound loosens something in me. I kiss the laugh out of his mouth, then let him work the rest of my buttons loose one at a time.

Neither of us rushes. We’ve been touching each other all week, and I know where Nolan’s body will be when I reach for it. My mouth moves over his jaw while he pushes my shirt off my shoulders. His hands follow, rubbing down my arms and back up to my neck.

I get his jeans open while Nolan works on mine. We stand there kissing with both pairs hanging loose on our hips, cocks hard underneath, too interested in each other’s mouths to finish undressing.

Nolan slides one hand into my jeans and cups me through my underwear.

My hips push forward before he tightens his grip. He rubs his palm over the length of my cock, slow enough that the fabric drags over the head. I groan into his mouth.

He backs me into the kitchen. The counter catches me across the ass. Nolan breaks the kiss, bends, and gets both arms behind my thighs.

“What are you doing?”

He lifts.

I land on the counter hard enough to rattle something in the sink. Nolan steps between my legs while I’m still getting my balance, and I lock my ankles behind him. The position puts our faces level. His pupils are blown wide, his mouth red from mine.

He reaches into my open jeans and pulls my cock out.

Nolan doesn’t look down. He keeps his eyes on mine while his fist closes around me, warm and firm, and strokes once from the base to the head.

My breath catches. He does it again.

Precome gathers at the slit. Nolan smears it with his thumb and slides his fist down, twisting just enough on the way back up. My hands clamp around the edge of the counter. The pressure in my cock is already close to painful.

“You like watching,” I say.

“Yeah.”

His attention never leaves my face. He watches every pull of his fist reach me and adjusts without asking: tighter at the base, slower over the head. Nolan knows my cock now. He knows exactly how long he can rub his thumb over the wet tip before my thighs start to shake.

I try to grab him through his jeans. He shifts his hips out of range.

“Nolan.”

“Let me.”

The words go straight through me. I put my hand back on the counter.

His free hand moves inside my thigh. He rubs over the muscle, then higher, cupping my balls while his fist keeps working my cock. His fingers roll them gently in his palm. Every slow stroke pulls them tighter against my body.

Then his middle finger slides behind them.

He presses into the soft strip of skin between my balls and my ass. The new pressure sends a hard pulse through my cock. My whole body locks, and Nolan’s eyes darken.

“Fuck.”

He strokes me again while his finger rubs deeper, following the line back until the pad brushes the edge of my hole through the underwear trapped beneath me.

The pressure is barely there. Heat breaks over my skin, and my cock jerks in Nolan’s hand, spilling more precome over his thumb.

He keeps watching me.

I can’t sit here and let him find out what another minute of that will do. “Bedroom. Now.”

Nolan lets go.

I nearly swear at him for following the order. Then he’s dragging my jeans down, and I slide off the counter to help. We leave the rest of our clothes between the kitchen and the bedroom. Nolan hops twice while trying to get his jeans over one foot, kicks them loose, and reaches the bed with one black sock still on.