Chapitre 2: Chapter 2

Then he straightens, his hand now tugging on

the zipper of my jeans as he stands back. I can’t seem to catch my

breath and I pray that he doesn’t ruin this with some flippant

remark like the ones he tends to make online, when he thinks I’m

getting too serious about things. About us. “Brandon,” he

murmurs in a raspy, smoked out voice that I feel in the back of my

throat. There’s a teasing glint in his eyes that makes me anxious.

“You sexy thang.”

I laugh, trying to break this tension, but it

doesn’t work and I have to avert my gaze from his. “Damien,” I say,

because I can’t think of anything else. He’s so damn

intense. Somehow the webcam photos failed to capture that.

We must look a fright, two Goths like smudges on the bright day,

standing so close together that there’s no doubt about what we’re

both here to do. As if the bulge at my crotch wasn’t a clue. I’m

painfully aware of Damien’s hand just inches above where I want him