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His eyes eat me up from head to toe, devouring every inch of exposed skin.
His fingers trace down my stomach. “Those weren’t there before.”
My cheeks heat, my stomach muscles clenching. I’ve got nowhere near as much definition as Nolan, but I’m definitely more toned than I was last time he saw me.
I lift an arm, flexing for him, showing off my bicep. “Not so skinny anymore.”
He grunts, dropping to his knees. Leaning up, he bites at my bicep. “I don’t know,” he says, wrapping his arms around my middle. “Still a shrimp to me.”
With a grunt, he heaves me over his shoulder, and pushes to a stand.
I gasp. “Nolan!”
He smacks my ass. “These jeans are criminal.”
Grinning, hanging upside down, I reach for his ass. “This ass is criminal.”
Chuckling he gives my butt a squeeze, and walks me down the hall. I try to take it all in, but honestly, the blood is sort of rushing to my head, making it hard to focus.
“Did you build this house?”
He grunts softly, stomping up a flight of stairs. “I did.”
“It’s nice.” And it is, from the little I’ve observed. It’s exactly what you’d imagine for a cozy cabin in the woods.
Nolan makes a sharp left and throws a door open. He doesn’t turn on the lights, but he doesn’t need to. As soon as he sets me on my feet, I turn my wide, awed gaze to the big bay windows overtaking the far wall. With the heavy snow raining down, it might as well be daytime out there.
It casts a soft butter-gray glow upon the room.
Emotion wells in me as I look around the space, breathing it in. The room has high-peaked ceilings. Dark wood rafters. In the middle, against the wall opposite the windows, a massive bed.
Like the rest of the house, it’s simple, clean, organized, with rich mahogany furniture. Navy and gray checkered curtains hang from each side of the window, matching the throw pillows on the bed.
Feeling Nolan watching me, I look over, finding him staring at me with an unreadable look on his face.
“I’m in your house,” I whisper.
He nods.
“In your room.”
He nods again.
I smile wetly, throat unbearably thick.
He pads over barefoot. I have no idea when he stripped off his socks and boots. He brings a hand up to my cheek, and I turn into it, sinking into his warm, familiar touch. A calloused thumb brushes over my lip, and I pull it into my mouth, sucking slowly.
Groaning, Nolan steps closer, right up against me. He’s thick and rigid in his jeans, and I find myself wiggling my hips, the tightness in my jeans borderline painful.
As if reading my mind, he slides his thumb from my lips, dragging it down my chin in a wet stripe. I tip my head back, arching my chest up at him.
Fingers drop to my fly, popping open the button, knuckles skating down my hard-on through the denim as he drags down the zipper.
“Gonna have to peel these off you, aren’t I?” he mumbles, pressing a hot open-mouthed kiss to my jaw.
I nod at the ceiling. “Better you than me.”
He hums, nipping my skin. Shoving his fingers inside the denim, he starts tugging, and then hisses when the head of my cock taps his palm.
