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“What the hell? Is that rugby?” I murmured to myself as I pulled the framed photo into my grip, confused by what I was looking at. “Nicholas played rugby?”
I wasn’t surprised by him having an athletic past, it was the method of expressing his athleticism that shocked me. I didn’t know of many Americans who played rugby in general, but it looked like it was a special league, maybe even European judging by the French titles written across the uniforms. It was another piece of the Nicholas puzzle, one that was only becoming more mysterious despite all of my snooping?—
My attention was suddenly interrupted by spotting a photo of Nicholas with his arm around a man who looked like he’d walked right off a runway. I put down the rugby photo and picked a new one up, scrutinizing every detail of the picture.
They looked happy.
And for some reason, that same happiness caused something to twist inside my stomach, like I was somewhere I didn’t belong, like I’d stumbled onto something I never had any business touching in the first place?—
“Shit!” The photo slipped out of my hands at the sound of a motorcycle rushing through the neighborhood, my fingers pulling away from it and toward my own chest. Thankfully, the photo landed on the desk, popping out of its frame, without any damage to it. A few seconds later and curiosity got the better of me, as I turned the photo over in my palm, wondering if there were any clues about the man in the photo, if there was another piece of the puzzle just waiting to be found.
“To my brother from another mother—always my best man—T.J.”
Always my best man?
I turned the photo over again, this time with the smiling faces directed my way?—
And I realized that in my half-awake, half-asleep state I’d somehow missed that both Nicholas and his friend were clearly dressed for a wedding.
T.J.’s wedding.
Embarrassed, I felt my cheeks heat red as I slipped the photo back into its frame, soon exiting Nicholas’ home office, entirely. I closed the door behind me, hoping that Nicholas wouldn’t figure out that I’d ever been in the room, wanting to keep my unauthorized discoveries all to myself. Besides, I’d only chosen his home office for snooping reasons since it seemed like the only room in his house that had any sense of personality, any sense of who Nicholas actually was.
Everything else was so… pristine. Almost sterile. Like he was staging it as a rental property, something he was considering selling off sooner or later. I couldn’t tell if it was a side effect of a tidy bachelor or just a side effect of the way he liked to live, mostly keeping to himself, staying away from town as much as he was able to.
I groaned as I headed back to Nicholas’ bedroom, my body torn between aching for sleep and aching for a source of caffeine to wake me up for the morning. I groaned again as I noticed the sun starting to rise from Nicholas’ window, a telltale sign that I’d run out of hours to spend in bed. Full of not-sleeping-enough regrets, I pulled out my toothbrush and some fresh clothes before I stumbled toward the master bathroom.
A few moments later and I was standing underneath a pleasant stream, the shower jets overhead massaging my tired frame in perfect rhythm. Despite the warmth of the steam clouding around me like a warm welcome, I wasn’t able to fully relax into any of it, my mind still racing with the few fragmented pieces of Nicholas Cooper I’d been able to grasp, a jigsaw puzzle still missing the kind of variation that would’ve helped me start putting any of it together.
All I had was a big fish, a snapshot of rugby, and photographic evidence that Nicholas had been to a wedding at least once in his life.
Which meant that all I had was nothing.
Maybe he was just unknowable. It was what I told myself as I started to wash, flashes of Nicholas’ smile sticking to the back of my eyelids with my every move. Maybe Nicholas was better off as a mystery, the guy I hooked up with on vacation but didn’t know a thing about outside of his profession and what his house looked like. Hell, I didn’t even know how Nicholas would’ve responded to my snooping, if he was the type to easily let it go or would’ve dragged it out into a whole argument…
The kind that could’ve only been stopped with an apology…
An apology that would’ve come in the form of my mouth on his cock…
Before I knew it, my hand had drifted down to my shaft, stroking it gently.
Fuck.
Apparently, my body was just as obsessed with Nicholas as my mind, my cock rising as I imagined being on my knees for him, all over again, this time on the floor of his bedroom. He was standing over me, relentless, consumed with control, before he bent down toward me, getting close enough to slide his fingers between my lips…
He then pumped his fingers in and out of my mouth, moving them in sync as if they were his perfect cock…
“Nicholas… Nicholas…” I groaned as I shamelessly pumped my shaft, my hand moving up and down the length of it. “Fuck…”
“Did you need something, Parker?”
No.
Nope.
No fucking way.
I opened my eyes to see through the steam, my hand moving away from my cock like it was made out of pure lava. My breaths were coming shallow and quick, half aroused, half terrified, unsure if my imagination was just playing tricks on me or if somehow, I’d conjured up Nicholas on the spot.
