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“Well, I think we did okay tonight. It’s new, so give it time.”
“Is he still at our place?” Channon asked.
“Ours? No, we’re at Nate’s.”
Oh. Channon tried to reimagine Jack at Nate’s and failed. His image of the place wasn’t strong enough.
“How are you feeling, sweetheart?”
“I’m okay,” Channon said, a little embarrassed at himself. “But…Nate and Ewan. I don’t want to lose them when we get married.”
“Then we won’t,” Jack promised. “We’ll work it out. This isn’t just about you wanting Nate’s cock in you, is it?” Jack asked teasingly. “Because you know, you can have that. I’d love to see that again.”
It startled a laugh from him. “No! I mean, I don’t mind. I like when, you know. When you invite people to do that. But I’m not just, just yearning for it or anything.”
“Mmm. I think I know whose cock you are yearning for.”
Channon felt his cheeks flush. “Yours, Sir.”
“Oh, that goes without saying. But I think you want someone bigger.”
Okay, they had officially veered away from the ‘big feels’ part of the conversation to the ‘big feels’ part. A familiar heat rose in his cheeks, and he knew he was blushing. “Sir, I don’t need any dick except yours.”
“You’re allowed to want it, though,” Jack said magnanimously. “I want you to.”
Channon squeezed his eyes shut, squirming back into his pillows. “Okay.”
“Okay?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“In that case,” Jack said in a low, suggestive tone, “I want to know how naked you are right now.”
“Um, totally?”
“I think I’m going to need proof, sweetheart.”
Channon wriggled under the covers. “What kind of proof?”
“How do you think you could prove it?”
“I could…send you a selfie?”
“That’s right.” Jack’s voice dripped with approval. “Go on, then. You can crop your face out if you want.”
Because Jack knew his body well enough to recognize it anywhere, and Jack knew Channon would never lie to him. “Yes, Sir. One sec.”
Channon pushed the covers down, his pulse running a little fast. A naked selfie. Nudes. That was what Jack wanted.
He knew from experience that body selfies were harder than they looked—harder to make them look good, anyway. Channon laid one hand on his belly and focused on that rather than his junk (though the junk was definitely still in frame). He took a burst of pictures, trying not to think too much about it.
One of them seemed okay. The top edge showed his throat and his mouth but nothing more than that. The bottom went all the way down to his thighs. Was it good enough? Channon quickly slapped a filter on it, warm and faded, and sent it before he could lose his nerve. Then he deleted the nudes from his phone.
“There, Sir,” he said, a little breathless. “Is that what you wanted?”
Jack chuckled softly. “Let’s see.” His phone chimed. “Hmmm. That’s exactly what I wanted. Good boy. But your dick looks lonely,” he added in a smooth, low tone. “Touch it.”
Channon slowly let out his breath. “Yes, Sir,” he said, sliding his hand down and curling it around his dick.
