Page 36 of Catch Me If You Can

"What? I—" I start, but he cuts me off.

"I said turn it thefuckoff."

He lunges forward, slamming the laptop shut, then bolts from the couch.

"Nathaniel, what the fuck—?"

"Don’tfuckingcall me that!" he shouts, disappearing into the bathroom and slamming the door.

Leaving me there.

With a rock-hard dick.

And a million fucking questions.

16

nathan

This cannot be happening. What am I,thirteen?

I glance down at the mess coating my hands and lower stomach, chest still heaving. I barely made it two strokes into the bathroom before I came so hard I nearly blacked out.

Fucking dammit.

I’ve never come like that in my life. And all because of—God help me—Caleb fucking Brown.

I roll my eyes and strip off the rest of my clothes. Guess there’s no better time for a shower.

Under the warm spray, I brace my palms against the tiles and try to figure out what the hell just happened. How did I even let it get that far? Why didn’t I get up and leave the second things started drifting inthatdirection?

But I know why.

I was curious. Stupidly curious about what he’d do next. He looked so excited to show me. And honestly? My reaction hadway less to do with the guys on the screen, and everything to do with the one sitting beside me.

The way his long arms moved when he rested them on his thighs, his thumbs idly tracing side to side.The rise and fall of his bare chest. The way his breathing changed when he stopped paying attention to the video and started paying closer attention tome.

And his voice. Holy hell,his voice. Smooth and low. One word and I was basically gone.

I glance down and groan. Hard again.

Seriously?

Ijustcame not even ten minutes ago.

Well. Guess that answers the question I’ve been avoiding. I’m not as straight as I thought.

Damn it, Caleb. Why’d he have to come back and screw with my head? I wasfineliving in sexuality denial, chasing Sarah into the sunset.

And of all people to help me figure this crap out... it had to behim. The guy who wrecked me years ago.

Or wait.

Did Sarah even hurt me that bad? Or was ithimI never really got over?

“Nope,” I mutter to myself, spinning the faucet to ice cold. The water hits like a slap to the face. My entire body flinches, breath catching in my throat.

Shock therapy. That’s what I need.

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