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I do just that, raising my arms so he can peel the wet shirt away from my skin and over my head.
“Fucking hell,” he growls, throwing the ball of fabric behind him. It hits the floor with a wet squelch. His frown deepens, when he catches the bruises going up my side. And I try not to feel self-conscious, now that we’re in the light of day, standing face to face, shirtless and exposed.
Not to mention the fact that I’m suddenly highly aware of how different we look. Nolan’s all hard, rippling muscle, and bulging biceps, whereas I’m just…smooth and soft? I’m definitely on the thinner side, thanks to the shit Canaan put me through I’m sure, but there’s just no muscle definition. Whatsoever.
I’m paler too, next to his naturally tan skin.
And if ever there was a time I was self-conscious about my age—on top of our striking physical differences—it’s seeing all that dark hair smattered over his defined pecs contrasted with my smooth, flat chest that really drives it the fuck home.
“I, uh, know I’m not—sorry I’m not more—”
A calloused finger presses over my lips, silencing me.
My pulse jumps.
Nolan’s still frowning when he says, “You’re beautiful.”
And I think I just sort of…wink out of the existence there for a second.
“Like I said, I just wasn’t expecting this,” Nolan goes in a distracted voice just as his gaze drops, like he’s trying to figure something out. “I never thought I…” He trails off.
My throat clicks with an audible swallow, and I try not to squirm as he scours my skin with a look of intensity I’ve never quite seen before. Most definitely not a look I’ve ever seen aimed my way.
My toes curl into the cool tile and I finally manage to say, “So you’ve never been into a guy before?”
“No, not really.” He follows the path his finger makes down my chest, eyeing it curiously. “Well not enough to think anything of it, much less act on it.”
“But you want to act on it with me?”
His gaze lifts. “What do you think?” he says, just as he drags his rough fingers to my nipple, pinching it, eliciting a sharp gasp from my lips.
I arch into his touch, grateful he seems to be ignoring the bruises. At least for the moment.
He hums. “You like that.”
“Uh huh.”
“Tell me how far you’ve gone before.” Not a question. An order.
I shake my head, wincing at the idea of sharing this, but knowing, somehow, he’s not going to drop it. “Kissed a guy. Uh, just one. Jerked him off too…well, we both did…together, I mean…” My voice fades, memories rising to the surface as if summoned.
A hand cups my cheek, pulling me back to the present. “Hey, where’d you go?”
I swallow thickly and mumble, “Nowhere.”
His brows dip heavily over his eyes. “Do we need to slow down? Stop?” Something dark and knowing peeks out behind his crystal green irises, and I realize what he must be thinking. What conclusions he might’ve just jumped too.
Shaking my head, I quickly rush out to assure him, “No, no, it’s…it’s not what you’re thinking.”
He eyes me skeptically.
“He just wasn’t who I thought he was, and it…it was shit after.After, okay? Not during.”During was…nice.
Nolan studies me for a long moment, then nods. “Well, he’s an idiot.”
A laugh erupts out of me.
His frown only deepens. “I mean it.” He sweeps his eyes all over me, hands skating over my shoulders, fingers trailing down my arms. Like he’s mapping me out. Learning the texture of another man.
