The heat on Nate’s back was replaced by cold sweat. “I think we’re already good friends.”
Paula looked around and hooked a finger with Nate’s. “Better friends, Nate.”
What was this? Had he started emitting special pheromones? “I-I don’t think that’s what Jesus would want for us,” he said flatly. If there was a Hell, he’d be burning in it.
“Oh.” Paula pulled away with her cheeks flushing. “Um… See you at the concert.” She flashed him a smile and skittered away, leaving Nate feeling like the one person who’d never be allowed into paradise.
Then again, at least she was out of his hair. It wasn’t like he could be honest with her about being gay.
He couldn’t tell anyone, except, maybe, Curtis. If Curtis had only used the music as an excuse to get Nate inside his room without saying the S-word, that is. Because why else would he have asked to see Nate’s ID?
With a head full of worried excitement, Nate moved his feet, trying to remain invisible, in case someone wanted to know where he was going, or why he wasn’t listening to God’s Daughters performing on the main stage. He became that bit calmer once he passed reception, but when the lift door closed behind him, his stomach plummeted contrary to the force of the upward movement.
What was he doing? This was madness. For all he knew, Curtis could be a serial killer, and Nate—his next victim. Nate’s own actions broke all the rules he’d set for himself. Despite knowing he wasn’t like his family, he’d intended to play his good boy part for as long as he lived at home. He wasn’t one to rock the boat. He was a reasonable young man who could think clearly and assess danger.
Yet here he was, guided by his dick.
He already imagined Curtis naked, his muscular body getting sweaty, his fingers curling around Nate’s wrists, long hair tickling Nate’s skin.
By the time the lift opened, Nate was on the verge of running away, locking himself in the room he shared with another boy from their church, and sign off gay things until college.
But instead, he walked toward room 205 in a mindless state while arousal burned holes in his brain. He wasn’t better or more reasonable than other guys, as some girls and adults believed. He was guided by lust so strong all sense went out the window.
When he knocked, it didn’t even feel like his own hand hit the wood, and he was on the verge of taking a step back when Curtis opened the door and scanned Nate from head to toe.
“Quick. I like it,” he said in a voice that made goosebumps appear all over Nate’s arms. It was low, and powerful. The voice of someone who knew what they wanted and what they needed to do to get it.
Nate stepped over the threshold with a sense of loss, and once the door closed behind him, the proximity of a man older, more experienced, and maybe—hopefully—interested in more than Nate’s guitar skills made him stiffen. How was he to navigate this situation? Should he pretend the meeting was all really about playing music and wait for Curtis’s move?
He didn’t get to make up his mind. Curtis stepped closer and leaned down, stealing a kiss in one smooth move. His arms wrapped around Nate’s waist, and before he knew it, Curtis pressed him against the door, sliding his hands to Nate’s ass and squeezing.
It was a trap. Nate was a fly who’d gotten caught in the spider’s web and was about to be consumed.
But oh, how badly he wanted to be the spider’s next meal.
He didn’t know what to do about his guitar, so he held onto it with one hand while the kiss grew ever more heated. Getting to his toes, he pushed his chest against Curtis’s, seeking the masculine hardness of his body. He didn’t know if he was allowed to touch Curtis, so he kept his free hand balled into a fist and opened up to the invasion of his mouth, feeding on the hot air straight from Curtis’s lips.
His first kiss.
The way Curtis kneaded Nate’s ass was making him hard, and he wasn’t even sure if he should’ve been embarrassed, because Curtis sure as hell didn’t have inhibitions.
Curtis’s tongue explored Nate’s lips with a passion, and when Curtis ground against Nate, breathing became impossible. Curtis was a demon who’d come to possess him, and nothing would be the same. Even Nate’s fantasies didn’t live up to the confident touch of Curtis’s strong hands.
It felt as if Nate’s whole life was sliding off its tracks and he was now off-road in a tiny city car. Could he even handle everything Curtis offered?
The touch was so intense he could no longer stop himself from reacting, and clutched Curtis’s T-shirt, marveling at the hard muscles beneath. This was both Heaven and Hell, and he needed to come up for air, breaking the kiss and meeting the intense brown gaze looking straight into his soul.