Fahrenheit

by Alex Rosa

  “Lo, you know this guy?” Garrett asks, pointing his finger at the man on our doorstep.

  “Lo?” Nate hums, as if testing the nickname on his tongue. He shakes his head, deciding he doesn’t like it.

  I smile. “Yeah, I do know him. Nate,” I reply, barely turning to Garrett, because I can’t stop staring at Nate here at my apartment. I had never pictured this scenario happening.

  Nate’s lips twitch when he hears his name. He isn’t Nathan to me, and that smile says he knows it.

  “Hi,” he says quietly.

  “Hi,” I whisper dreamily. Getting caught up in the moment, I shake my head, losing myself in the fluffy cloud of mind-numbing hormones that manifests between us.

  We can’t possibly have a conversation in front of Garrett.

  It’s obvious that the rusty cogs of Garrett’s brain are on the move as he dissects the strapping figure of male specimen in front of him.

  I grab for Nate’s hand, and yank him inside. “Let’s talk in here. I. Just. Can’t,” I jabber, each word a staccato of frustration.

  Nate doesn’t know the ridiculousness that was the conversation Garrett and I were having, but because of this, I tow him across the room, using him as my escape route.

  “Thanks, Garrett. We’ll pick up this conversation later, yeah?”

  “Lo, I—”

  I turn to Nate when we’ve reached my bedroom door. “Give me two seconds,” I whisper to him, pushing him into my bedroom. Nate’s grinning like a loon as he acknowledges the obvious disaster that is my life. I shoot him a knowing, jaw-clenching smile, glaring playfully before I shut the door with him inside.

  I stroll to Garrett, who’s still standing in the foyer, as if trying to put together what the hell is going on.

  “Who’s that?”

  “That’s Nate.” I shrug.

  “Nate who?”

  I sigh, rubbing my temples. “Just a guy …”

  “Like, the guy?”

  I grunt. “Yeah, maybe.”

  “So, that’s why you’re not admitting that you’re in love with me, too?”

  “I swear, Garrett, if you weren’t my best friend, I might try to slap some sense into you. You’re not getting it. Nate is just a guy to me.” I stumble over those words, noting my dislike for the statement before putting myself back on track. “What you and I have trails back for years. I think a part of me always knew you loved me, but that it was going to take you time to figure it out. The hard part about this is it took you too long. I do love you, and I wish I could tell you that I know what to do with your feelings for me, but I don’t. I just don’t. I’m not the same person anymore. Although, let me tell you a few, crucial things: I care for you. You’re important to me. I don’t want to lose you. Those are the facts I can give you, okay? Maybe it’s not good enough for you right now, but in all honesty, that’s a pain I’ve had to deal with time and time again with you. It doesn’t make them any less true. Just give me time. I need to figure myself out. I don’t really know what to feel. I thought I was getting to know myself better in the past few weeks, but I don’t know about that anymore either. Give me some time to digest this, okay?”

  His eyes dart over my shoulder to my closed bedroom door before coming back to me. “I get it.”

  He turns around, and goes to his room, shutting the door more delicately than I’d expect, leaving me alone in the living room.

  I take this as my opportunity to breathe, realizing two sides of my existence are caged on either side of my apartment.

  Some things I never see coming.

  I roll out my shoulders and peer down at my clothing. This would not be my ideal outfit. I look twelve.

  “Shit.” I groan as I walk to my door, opening it to see Nate standing in the open space between my bed and vanity. His eyes are everywhere, and his hands keep fidgeting in front of him as if he doesn’t know what to do or where to stare.

  I guess if I were in his bedroom, I’d be in a sensory overload, too.

  The creaking of the door catches his attention.

  “Everything okay?” he asks through a smirk.

  I take a step inside, and press the door closed with my back, taking in the scene.

  Nathan Sanders is in my bedroom. Someone alert the media.

  “It’s as okay as it’s going to get, that’s for sure.” I lick my lips, liking how uncomfortable Nate seems.

  “You’re here,” I blurt out, and then attempt to regain my wits by trying again. “I mean, why are you here?”

  He runs a hand through his hair before reaching into his jacket pockets. He pulls out my phone, notepad, and ID holder with my credit cards and license.

  I stroll up to him, and take the items from his hands, letting our fingers slide against each other. I take a step back to provide a safe distance for my brain and me, needing a secure bubble of sanity in order to function. Even now, I can feel a lustful fog rolling into my brain while my heartbeat picks up speed.

  A bashful smile grows on his lips. “You left those in my car. I didn’t know how to get ahold of you.” He shrugs. “I swear I only flipped through your wallet to get your address from your license. I don’t mean to overstep our boundaries.” He pauses, letting the word hang between us. The absurd comedy that the word has when it comes to us causes a smile to twitch on both of our mouths.

  “W-What I mean is, I knew I had to get these back to you. I would’ve been over sooner, but I got held up at work. Sorry for just showing up,” he finishes.

  I like bumbling Nate. It’s by far the most amusing thing I’ve ever witnessed.

  “Thank you. I had no idea how I was going to get ahold of you either. This is definitely the best solution.”

  A wide grin lights up his face. He sticks his hands in his pockets, dragging his eyes over my room, then over the length of my body before bouncing to my eyes.

  “So, this is your place?” he asks.

  I raise a brow, a fun tension crackling in the air between us. I turn to place my prized possessions on my nightstand before resuming the place a few feet on front of him.

  “It is. Is it everything you imagined?”

  He laughs, but it’s more to himself than to my question.

  “It’s funny actually. The room is simpler than I expected, but you in that outfit is kind of a wet dream. That part I could only hope for.”

  I close my eyes. A heated blush crawls over every surface of my skin before I open them again to see Nate’s intense stare doing nothing to relieve the hot flash I’m experiencing.

  “It’s nice to see the real you, too. It suits you better,” he adds.

  It’s such a sincere, casual thing to say even if his eyes scream something sinful.

  Under the soft, white glow of my paper lantern lamp hanging in the corner, and with the lack of neon or lessons to be learned, there’s delightful honesty that transcends between us here. Like we’re on a different plane of existence. More open. More natural. More us.

  I pad the floor with my right foot. “Is it? You don’t like my dresses?”

  He shakes his head. “That’s a stupid question that I won’t even bother answering, because it’s obvious I do. I’m just saying, what you’re wearing is kind of, like—” He scratches his chin, as if confused why he’s still speaking. “Like how you were when we first met—bookish, but still hot. I think I like you in your natural habitat.”

  I snort out a laugh. “What am I, a wild animal?”

  “More like an endangered species,” he replies.

  I exhale a long breath, needing to steady myself, because he’s turning me into a thick, syrupy puddle.

  “Too much?” he asks, watching me.

  It has me realizing that Nate is more calculated than he lets on, even when he’s out of his element.

  “Maybe a little,” I chide, taking a deliberate step toward him.

  He licks his bottom lip, allowing a few seconds to drag out in silence before asking, “Now what?” A crackling static of sexual
tension builds between us. “Is this where I go back home now?”

  I smirk.

  The attraction between us is as involuntary as breathing, and it’s starting to feel as important as oxygen.

  “I don’t know,” I hum, sensing this strange need to obliterate the word “bookish” when he thinks of me. I want to be more than that. That word implies things I don’t like when it comes to a man I’d lick every inch of.

  I slide my hands up his torso and over his shoulders, pushing his leather jacket off. He allows it to fall to the floor behind him. His eyes are entranced as he watches me.

  Hooking a finger into the front loop of his jeans ignites his wicked smile.

  I tug at him. “Well, you’re here, and I’m horny.”

  He closes the rest of the distance between us with a single step, popping anything I had left of a personal bubble.

  “Is this still for research?” he asks as he moves with me tugging him toward the bed.

  I shrug. “Hm. Let’s call this more of an extracurricular activity on top of my general studies, of course.”

  His smile could light up the Hollywood Hills.

  “Of course,” he tuts with a patronizing nod, like a teacher placating his student.

  “You’re such an ass sometimes.” I laugh as I turn us around, switching places.

  “What? How am I—?”

  I shove at his chest, having him tumble back onto my bed.

  He laughs. His eyes lighting up like a kid who’s seeing sunshine for the first time after years of being inside. It has me wondering how much fun Nate allows himself to have.

  I place my knee onto the bed between his legs. The sound of his laugher fades as he watches me crawl up the length of his body until I’m straddling his narrow hips.

  “This night is shaping up way better than I had hoped,” he says.

  “Oh, yeah?”

  He nods, placing his hands behind his neck, positioning his body in such a way to imply something sensual, but it has me thinking of something else. “I’m all yours,” he quips.

  I laugh, my right hand flying to my mouth to muffle it. “Is this where you say, ‘Draw me like one of your French girls,’ like in Titanic?”

  He rolls his eyes, but continues to laugh and it’s the most we’ve laughed together since meeting. “You’re such a buzz kill,” he jokes.

  I shake my head, wiggling my hips over his growing erection. “Something tells me you’re still interested.”

  “You’re in control this time, Lauren.”

  I tilt my head. “Since when do you let me have control?” I ask.

  The left corner of his mouth twitches, his lips dipping into a pout. “Since we’re on your turf, it only seems fair.”

  “I think I like this.” I tap my chin. “Shirt off, please.”

  He can’t stop smiling. He sits up straight, putting us nearly nose to nose, capturing my stare as he pulls his shirt over his body, throwing it across the room.

  He doesn’t sit back. He brushes the tip of his nose against mine, making me smile before his lips press into mine.

  I didn’t know I was hungering for him until I get a taste. My hands come to his biceps as an arm wraps around my waist, pinning me to him.

  His kiss makes me dizzy. I lose focus, and more importantly, the control he’s beseeched me this evening, because I could kiss this guy all night.

  His tongue strokes against mine, and I allow him to savor it for a second longer before this fire between us rages out of control.

  I pull away, shaking my head.

  “Sorry,” he admits. “I almost got ahead of myself.”

  I push him back, and he obeys. This time I get the glorious view of his naked torso. In the soft glow of my bedroom, plus our goofy smiles, it reminds me of us last night, fooling around in his car like two dumb, lustful kids. I’m liking this state of mind.

  I don’t tell him what I have planned. Instead, I wet my palette with a stroke of my tongue across my lips as I lean over.

  I kiss him on his lips, a full one. I dip my tongue into his mouth before placing kisses on his chin and up his jaw, enjoying the coarse feeling of his stubble against my lips.

  He’s frozen beneath me, except for the pulsing point in his neck that I feel against my lips when I kiss him there.

  It sends a delightful thrill through me to know that his heart is accelerating as fast as mine. I drag my tongue over his Adam’s apple, which bobs with each shallow breath.

  I’ve never had the opportunity to feast on a body like this, and I’m starving to taste him everywhere. I have only one deliciously sinful goal in mind.

  I make diligent work of kissing down his torso, licking and nibbling as I do, circling my tongue around one small round nipple before continuing to his abs.

  My fingers trail down his hard muscles before my lips do. The way his abdominal muscles are carved into his body are brain-melting. I kiss each rigid edge and trail farther down.

  I unzip his pants, unbuttoning them. My eyes are on Nate’s, while I pepper the skin above his waistband, where a light trail of hair starts.

  I watch the rapid rise and fall of his chest, and the way his pupils dilate in heated concentration and anticipation. Lust looks good on this man.

  His look fuels my fingers and lips. I want him to unravel from my touch.

  A goal has never been so exciting.

  I slide my hand over the crotch of his jeans, feeling him hard and ready for me. He lifts his hips enough so I can push his jeans and briefs down to his knees. His cock is hard and waiting for me. I lick my lips as I wrap my hand around it, basking in its velvety feel.

  I lean my head forward enough to lick the head, lapping up the drops of pre-come that are there. It’s enough to entice a tight gasp and for his lips to form an ‘O.’

  “For the record, I have no idea why anyone would think you’re a prude,” he pants, watching me with such a heated stare that I worry I’ll combust.

  I manage a devilish grin, which he returns. “Just because I’m conservative in broadcasting my sexual activity doesn’t mean I don’t know how, or like, to suck cock, Nathan Sanders.”

  He clenches his right fist, bringing it to his mouth, biting the knuckle to restrain a groan of smiling appreciation.

  I lick up his shaft before drawing the full length of him into my mouth. I get some sort of high from sensing the clenching of Nate’s body. I suck as I lift my head upward, my hand wrapped around his cock, sliding in unison with my mouth. My free hand moves to cup his balls.

  I suck at the tip before driving him into my mouth again, ignoring the slight gag reflex as I attempt to take in as much as possible, loving when he writhes the moment his dick hits the back of my throat. He’s so large that I can’t fit his whole cock into my mouth, so I use my hand to pump the base of it, enticing more moans.

  One of his hands reaches over, tangling into my hair, guiding my mouth.

  “So fucking good. Keep going.”

  I do this repeatedly. My hand and mouth pumping his length. The soft steel twitches in my mouth and the restrained buck of his hips urges me forward. I know he’s almost there, and I pick up my pace, driving his orgasm out.

  I lick at the head, sucking it, dragging my teeth featherlight over the sensitive skin, his body jolting from the sensation before I take him in again.

  “I’m going to come. Stop or I’ll come in your mouth.”

  I want him to. Maybe it’s because I’m drunk with power over witnessing what I do to him when he’s at my mercy. Watching him white knuckle my sheets, chewing his lips raw so he doesn’t moan too loud is intoxicating.

  I moan into his cock, the vibrations driving down his length, causes him to lose it.

  A hot spurt of come hits the back of my throat. I swallow it, milking him with my hand and mouth as the tremors roll through his body.

  Hearing his staggered gasps through each wave makes me wet, and wanting.

  I pull away, sitting back on my heels, wiping
the corners of my mouth, admiring my handiwork.

  I watch him trying to get a grip on his shallow breaths as he says through hooded eyes, “Your mouth is going to be the end of me.”

  “Probably in more ways than one.”

  He goes wide-eyed. I mean it as a joke, but I know he’s thinking of my article. “Don’t worry; your identity is safe with me, Batman.”

  He sits up, grabbing for my shoulders, pulling me to him in a rough kiss. Our teeth clash before acclimating to a hungry rhythm. He teases, pulling away when I want so much more.

  “How many times do I have to tell you I’m not the good guy? Now, shirt and shorts off, but keep the knee-high socks on.”

  “Is this a new fantasy I don’t know about, Nate?” I chirp.

  He smiles, rendering my joints useless. “It is now.”

  I climb off his body, licking my lips of his release. His eyes are carnal as they concentrate on me. His lust burns like a wildfire there. He looks on the verge of devouring me at any second.

  He kicks off his pants and shoes less gracefully than the Nate I know who hides blindfolds in back pockets. Before I know it, he’s lying naked on my bed, and on open display for me to admire. He’s not shy about it either. The man doesn’t have a modest bone in his body, and why would he? He’s so absurdly beautiful. I’d write bad poetry about his body if he let me.

  I pull my sweater over my head, revealing my black sports bra. For it being something I’d wear to the gym, it still pushes up my breasts nicely, and for that, I’m thankful.

  After getting what I want from my personal meal of Nathan Sander’s, I obey his directions, forfeiting control. I push my black shorts over my hips, revealing boy-short underwear in pale pink.

  Nate’s right hand moves to touch himself, taking a firm grip of his shaft, which hardens in his hand as he strokes himself. His stamina is a blessing as much as it is impressive.

  I hide a breathy moan as I watch. I lean down to pull up each sock on my legs, which he seems to enjoy as he gifts me a mischievous smirk while his hand pumps himself faster.

  I step closer to the bed before slipping out of my underwear. I don’t hesitate climbing back over him as his hand releases himself. His hard cock waiting for me again.