The exaggerated nod reminded Booker of a Bobblehead doll, the comparison bringing a smile to his lips. When he stood up, he was surprised to find his legs were shaking, and it took a moment for him to steady himself. Tom’s leap of faith had suddenly made him jittery, the unexpected onset of nerves wiping the grin from his face. It was as though his whole life had led to this one moment in time, and he stared down at his lover, his pupils dilated, the jet-black voids all but obscuring the brown irises. But when two dark, trusting eyes met his gaze, an aura of calm washed over him, and his smile returned. By falling into the trap of overthinking, he’d allowed his emotions to get the better of him, much like Tom had done earlier. And so, in an
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Clothes spilled out of open drawers, the partially open closet revealing a jumble of shirts and jeans, all lying crumpled on the floor, their bereft hangers dangling from the railing. The only semblance of neatness within the cluttered room was the immaculately made bed, the dark blue linen reminding Tom of the stillness of the ocean on a summer's day. Given the untidy state of the rest of Booker’s apartment, the young officer could not help but wonder if the bed had been made with a particular purpose in mind, and his anxiety …show more content…
“Fuck,” he muttered. “Why do you have this effect on me? I feel like a damn teenager.”
Amused by the comment, Booker grinned. “Maybe ‘cause I’m such a sexy sonofabitch.”
The clever use of humor helped ease the tension in the room, and Tom grinned back. “In your dreams,” he chuckled, and before he had time to think, he quickly undressed and climbed in beside his lover.
Booker switched off the light, and careful not to crowd Tom, he rolled over and placed a hand on his smooth chest. The erratic beat of the young officer’s heart pulsated against his palm, and his brow pulled into a sympathetic frown. “Jesus, you really are nervous.”
Safe within the comforting folds of darkness, Tom found his confidence. “Maybe you can do something to help me relax.”
Immediately, a warm mouth caressed Tom’s ear. “Talk to me, baby,” Booker murmured, his fingers tracing lazy circles over the young officer’s bare chest. “Tell me what you
Clothes spilled out of open drawers, the partially open closet revealing a jumble of shirts and jeans, all lying crumpled on the floor, their bereft hangers dangling from the railing. The only semblance of neatness within the cluttered room was the immaculately made bed, the dark blue linen reminding Tom of the stillness of the ocean on a summer's day. Given the untidy state of the rest of Booker’s apartment, the young officer could not help but wonder if the bed had been made with a particular purpose in mind, and his anxiety …show more content…
“Fuck,” he muttered. “Why do you have this effect on me? I feel like a damn teenager.”
Amused by the comment, Booker grinned. “Maybe ‘cause I’m such a sexy sonofabitch.”
The clever use of humor helped ease the tension in the room, and Tom grinned back. “In your dreams,” he chuckled, and before he had time to think, he quickly undressed and climbed in beside his lover.
Booker switched off the light, and careful not to crowd Tom, he rolled over and placed a hand on his smooth chest. The erratic beat of the young officer’s heart pulsated against his palm, and his brow pulled into a sympathetic frown. “Jesus, you really are nervous.”
Safe within the comforting folds of darkness, Tom found his confidence. “Maybe you can do something to help me relax.”
Immediately, a warm mouth caressed Tom’s ear. “Talk to me, baby,” Booker murmured, his fingers tracing lazy circles over the young officer’s bare chest. “Tell me what you