Nervous by SM Johnson

Author:SM Johnson [Johnson, SM]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: gay romance, mm romance, light bdsm, bdsm gay romance, transgender romance, erotic romance gay, slow burn romance, gay romantic literature, gay erotic literature, romance character with anxiety
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

stay in the present moment

I didn’t talk the rest of the way home. My brain buzzed with memories of being handcuffed to his bed, and wondering what he would look like naked. Wondering if it would be different than last time. Would I be able to tell him to stop? But I didn’t have to, did I? We had color code words, and they were easy to remember. I’d used red once already, and with Evan in the office! And Avery hadn’t made any big deal out of it at all. He wasn’t angry or disappointed. It might have been something of a test, but I’d passed.

I’d passed the test.

He undressed me slowly this time, and kissed me a lot, pretty much wherever he uncovered my skin. I was overstimulated and trembling by the time he got me out of my new second-hand clothes and down to boxers and socks.

“Do you want me to undress you?”

I had no idea if there was a standard protocol for all of this, but I didn’t want to make a mistake.

“Maybe next time. You’re already shaking. Breathe or whatever it is you do to keep from panicking.”

“I don’t think I’m having a panic attack,” I said. “I think I’m excited. Maybe a little bit scared. But that wouldn’t be irrational, would it?”

“No, Jules. It would not.”

He’d already taken off a casual, white button-down shirt, which he’d worn over a t-shirt, unbuttoned, with the sleeves rolled up. He pulled the plain gray t-shirt over his head. His shoulders looked strong and capable. His chest, God, he had such a manly chest, the flat buttons of his nipples perfect, almost obscene, and the tattoo of the phoenix that highlighted the lines of his body. A trail of scattered hair ran from his naval and disappeared beneath the waistband of his jeans.

The fit of my boxer shorts was rudely disfigured by my erection.

He looked amazing in jeans, did I mention that?

I watched him as he pushed them off, revealing form-fitting boxer-briefs and a definite bulge. I couldn’t seem to look away from it. My peripheral vision noted that he stripped off one sock, and then the other.

I wanted to see his feet, but my eyes refused to look away from his crotch, until he said my name.

“Jules. Color?”

“Green.” No hesitation.

I was starting to feel again like this couldn’t be my life. Could this be my life? A life in which Avery gets naked and I tell him the code word for, ‘yes, keep going’?

He drew out my name, in a sing-song tone, “Ju-ules,” which snapped my eyes to his.

“Scoot up and let me cuff your hands.”

I looked him up and down before moving. I don’t know how much I appreciated the form of an almost naked man before now, but I discovered I really appreciated his nearly naked form. I’d always concentrated on eyes and faces, sometimes smiles, when considering whether I thought someone was attractive, but there were definitely a lot more parts of the body to enjoy looking at.

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