A Collar For His Brat 3_Reboot by R. J. Moray

Author:R. J. Moray [Moray, R. J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-04-04T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 8

I want to kiss you hello.

It sparked down the length of Ewan's spine like an electric jolt. He glanced over his shoulder, unable to shake the feeling that Nate could see him right now, was watching him for a reaction.

It was unbelievably confronting. Ewan didn’t know what to do with it.

I want to suck your dick, he typed, but then he deleted it because no, that was crass. And sure, he was himself crass but this time? He felt like being something else.

I want to be kissed hello, he sent instead, tucking his phone away and pretending Nate didn’t exist.

The desire to be kissed by Nate—in public, in front of everyone—was intense. Ewan couldn’t tell if it was just the thrill of Nate being interested in him, of being the focus of someone so high profile, of being somehow chosen, or simply because the sight of Nate, just the thought of him filled Ewan with a thick giddiness, shortening his breath and coiling hot and needy in his gut.

When he checked his phone again he found Nate had replied. Have lunch with me.

Ewan bit his lip, desperately wanting to say yes. So. Okay.

Nate named a cafe; Ewan agreed to meet him at the lifts. He agonized over this as he worked through his morning, as he gathered his things and made his way out to the corridor. Nate was leant up against the wall by the lifts, waiting. He smiled as Ewan approached and lifted a hand to Ewan’s cheek.

“Hey,” he said. He was soft today, in the blue cashmere sweater that made his eyes bloom bright and crystalline, and Ewan felt his gut clench at the need to touch him.

It seemed inevitable to lean in and offer his mouth. Nate’s eyes widened, but then he leaned down, kissing Ewan chastely on the lip.

He didn’t linger, but the pressure of him and the faint dampness of his mouth stayed sharp, pressed into Ewan’s flesh like a brand. Ewan tried not to look over his shoulder to see if anyone was watching, but ducked into the lift to get away from their imagined scrutiny.

Nate pressed the buttons, and then leant a palm against the wall, bracketing Ewan in with his body. “I missed you.”

“It’s been three days,” Ewan scoffed, unable to bear Nate’s proximity without touching him. He wished he could slide his hands up Nate’s chest, sneak them under his sweater and untuck him, press cool fingertips to his ribs and drag his nails down to mark up his skin.

“And I missed you,” Nate insisted, smiling that too-handsome smile.

“You’re getting attached,” Ewan chided him, turning his face away as his cheeks burned.

Nate chuckled. “It’s a bit late for that.” He stepped away, anchoring himself safely on the other side of the lift. “You’re quite attachable.”

“It’s funny. When you say ‘quite’ you mean ‘very’, don’t you?”

“Yeah? Why?”

Ewan shrugged. “Back home, it always meant ‘slightly’.” He went on before Nate could respond. “I don’t mind.”

“Don’t mind what?”

“If you get attached to me.

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