Morning, morning, morning!
I thought I'd let you have a peak at my current WIP (which has to befinished by the 31 August! EEEK!) Let me set this scene....After a seductive dance and a near-kiss at a club, Nash realises that his feelings towards Brody are less than platonic...
“Okay,” Brody finally said, drawing out the word. “I guess I’m gonna have to go first. Would you like to tell me what the hell that was all about?”
“Not sure,” Nash mumbled lamely, blushing furiously and avoiding Brody’s gaze.
“Not good enough, Nash,” Brody replied, shaking his head. “You practically peed on me for Christ’s sake!”
“Well it’s all your fault!” Nash yelled, beginning his pacing again.
“Me? How is your touching my ass, kissing me and mentally tattooing ‘Do Not Touch’ on my forehead, my fault?”
“You know what you did, you asshole. You danced with me.” Nash ground out, knowing that he sounded crazy, but unable to stop the babbling crap that was falling from his lips. “Wasn’t I confused enough? Did you think it would be fun to drive me completely out of my gourd?”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“But that wasn’t enough, was it? Oh, no—then you have to go and look at me with those come get me eyes, which are confusing all by themselves. I mean, they’re neither green, nor brown, and change depending on your mood. If you’re happy they’re green, if you’re pissed or looking at me like I’m nuts, like right now, they’re brown. Why do they do that?” Nash groaned the last few words, and if the situation had been different, he would have laughed at the expression of utter amazement on Brody’s face. But nothing about this was funny, especially the fact that he couldn’t seem to stop his mouth from moving.
“Then you had to go and kiss me with that Goddamn mouth of yours, all soft and sweet and, oh my God, you smell so fucking good all the time, and I know you do it on purpose just to drive me out of my mind; and your ass is just, well, you know, there.
“And not only did you give me a job and open your home to me, you didn’t laugh at me when I woke up sweating in the night, you just stayed with me. What the fuck is that? Who does that? Oh, yeah, you; and you make this soft snoring sound in your sleep which should be gross, but it’s just so fucking adorable. And then—”
“Nash, you’re not making any sense—” Brody interrupted.
“Do you think I don’t know that? I’m not that Swiss cheesed,” Nash bit back, glaring angrily at Brody for messing up his train of thought. “Now I’ve forgotten where I was up to—”
“Shut up. And then to top it all, what do you do? You save my life. Are you for real? Do you have any idea how fucking crazy you’re making me? How hard it was for me not to knock that guy on his ass for even daring to look at you? How all I could think about was that it should’ve been me touching you, whispering in your ear, making you smile like that, and would you please stop me before I make an even bigger fool of myself?” Nash’s chest heaved, his breath falling in harsh gasps as he waited for Brody to respond.
“I don’t snore.”
Nash's eyes widened in astonishment. “Out of everything I just said, that’s what you come back with? That’s all you heard?” He shook his head in disbelief. “Not the driving me crazy part, or the kissing part, or the saving my life part—none of that—just the snoring part? Are you fucking kidding me?” Nash turned to resume pacing, his bare feet slapping on the floor as he muttered heatedly. “Fantastic, I realize I’m gay, then I spill my guts and all he’s worried about is the fact he snores in his sleep? Stupid ass—” The breath whooshed out of his lungs as he collided with a mountain of solid muscle.
“You were wrong about two things actually,” Brody said softly. “I don’t snore, and I didn’t kiss you in the club.”
“You didn’t?” Nash’s knees trembled as Brody’s hands cupped his face and the right one slid into his hair. Oh God!
“Not even close,” Brody murmured, bringing their mouths together.
Nash whimpered in his throat when Brody’s tongue teased at the seam of his lips. He couldn't remember ever having been kissed like this before, but he didn't care because the only lips he ever wanted to feel on his were Brody's. His fingers curled into the cotton of the black Tee Brody wore and held on for dear life as the other man plundered his mouth, making it his own.
His moan was swallowed when Brody’s hands slid from his face and down his arms, to encircle his waist and pull him in tightly against his body—never breaking the kiss. Brody's lips were exactly how he'd imagined them to be, warm and soft on his, tongue sliding against his in a slow, sensuous rhythm. Nash involuntarily ground his hips against Brody’s, his cock already desperate to be free. A bolt of heat sparked through him like flash-fire at the vibration of Brody’s own moan against his mouth; the knowledge that he was responsible for that sound, had him rolling his hips to hear it again.
When oxygen became an issue and Brody finally broke the kiss to scrape his teeth down the length of his throat, Nash gasped. “Brody, I… what are you doing to me?” Some inbuilt instinct had Nash tilting his head to give Brody more access to his skin and he felt the tremble throughout his entire body when Brody whispered into his ear.“Everything.”