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“For someone who wants something from me, you’re skating on thin ice.” I push my ass backward and yelp when it hits his very large erection.

“I don’t want to take anything from you.” His hands glide up my sides, and I smother a moan. “I’m hoping you feel safe enough to show me who you are.” His lips graze my ear, and I shudder.

It’s hopeless; I’m never going to survive losing him a second time. But I steel myself and turn in his arms. “You can watch from over there.” I point to the spot to the right of my tripod. “No talking or touching.” I pat his cheek, then busy myself with finding a costume.

“Are those your general rules, or am I special?” he teases.

“One thing I love about being a camboy is the control. No one ever touches me, and I decide what they’re allowed to see.” I find what I’m looking for and motion for him to turn around.

“Really? I don’t get a sneak peek?” he asks, as he jumps to face the other direction.

“Not yet,” I sing playfully. It only takes a few seconds to change. “Be a good boy.”

Mav flashes me a megawatt smile. “I’ll be a very good boy.”

I have to take a few deep breaths and do a few stretches without looking at him. My goal is to dance as if he’s not here, and he’ll either love it or hate it. I tell myself over and over that figuring it out now is better, but it isn’t helping my nerves. I set my camera up to record so I’ll be able to watch it.

Mav’s silently sitting in the corner, but he tracks me. I can do this.

The music starts with heavy beats, and I’m grateful. No time to think. Only dance.

Since I’ve danced to this song before, my body anticipates every high note and pause and reacts in time.

They’re an ’80s hair band, so no routine is complete without air guitar. It’s the law or something. Mav’s eyes fixate on me like he’s touching me. My attention leaves the camera, and I concentrate on Mav.

He licks his lips as my body rolls, and he tilts his head, leaning forward, his eyes on mine. I’ve done enough live performances to notice where a man’s gaze falls. Mav sees me. All of me. Not a dancer taking his clothes off, but a man he cares about. This dance isn’t a chance for him to see me naked; it’s a way to share myself with him.

A thrill radiates from my head to my toes as his stare locks on mine. His hazel eyes burn bright green with yellow stars. Our eye contact becomes electric, seeing everything but his gaze steady on my face. A manifestation of our desire for each other.

As the song goes on, I shed my clothes, and he notices as an afterthought, not the main objective. I end in a skimpy jockstrap with my head down, catching my breath.

Part of me knows this changes things between us, and it scares me.

“Sky?” Mav’s voice is rough and gravelly.

I dare to glance at him. His pupils are blown, he’s flushed, and his cock tents his shorts.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks, but doesn’t move a muscle.

I strut over and plant a kiss on his forehead. “Good?” I pretend to walk away, but he doesn’t stop me. “Mav?” I ask, wondering if he’s broken.

He holds his hand out, and I let him pull me on top of him. His fingers skim over my arms and back and legs worshipfully, with concern I’ll disappear. He says, “Thank you,” so reverently, my eyes sting.

I lean in to capture his lips, and I’m struck by lightning. The excess energy he’s pent up flows out of him and through me in a pleasure loop. I’m basically naked except for a scrap of fabric, and his shorts are so thin, every vein and ridge drags against me.

I’m grinding on him, completely consumed with zero brain activity to stop me from coming all over him, a throwback to us in high school.

Until an awful sound blares from my room and Mav groans.

“Cock-blocking bastards,” he mumbles. “It’s my alarm to leave for the rink. We’re doing a volunteer thing after the game and fly out tomorrow morning.” He grips the back of my skull and kisses me again. “If your clients cancel, come to my game?” he asks with such hope.

“Go be a badass hockey player, and I’ll be right here for you.” I stand on shaky legs but sound convincing.

“I’ll miss you.” He straightens to his full height and takes me in his arms. “Can I call you after my games?”

“I’d love that,” I say into his chest, making a decision.

Chapter 15