Nate hadn’t even noticed that he was handling his fork with his left hand. The touch is feather-light, starting at Nate’s pulse in his wrist and sliding up to the thin skin on the inside of his elbow. Nate shivers, but Brad doesn’t let up. He thumbs along the vein, just the lightest pressure and Nate breathes out. Suddenly his food doesn’t taste so much like dust and the guy he was talking to about tax reform doesn’t seem so boring.
Oh, that was lovely. I can absolutely see it in my head and it's just so sensuous.
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Oh, that was lovely. I can absolutely see it in my head and it's just so sensuous.
It just didn't want to be porn. SIGH.
Sequel? :D