“That doesn’t surprise me,” I murmur, keeping my voice low so he won’t hear the tremble in it.
“No, really, look.” He starts to pull down his boxers—no tan lines, nothing but smooth skin, so inviting. I could touch him now and he’d let me, he wants me to, I can almost feel his desire radiating from him in waves.
At the first tufts of hair, though, I close my eyes, and Bradley sighs. “Jesus,” he mutters, hitching his shorts back up over his hips. He doesn’t elaborate.
I frown at the paint cans and tell him, “I should get to work.” Stay, I want to add. Talk to me, put me at ease, tell me you’re looking for a boy like me and I’ll open up to you. I want you, I do. I want to love someone like you but I’m afraid of getting hurt again, can’t you see that? Just be patient and I swear I’ll make
