Page 167 of Should the Sky Fall

Healwayswants to touch Dawson, and he’d been doing just fine managing those urges and improper thoughts. But then last night happened, and every single thread Cal had on his self-control snapped like someone cut through them. Now it’s torture whenever he so much as looks at Dawson. To have him stand here, right in front of Cal, all but naked and smelling like delicious dessert, is temptation without mercy.

Cal’s face must show it all, every sinful thought, because Dawson smirks, an endearing blush spreading over his neck and cheeks, and asks, “See something you like?”

What a ridiculous question. Cal almost laughs. “I like everything about you, Dawson. I thought that was obvious.”

For a moment, he fears he said something wrong again. Dawson stares at him, open-mouthed and wide-eyed. His blush darkens, his chest rising and falling faster than before.

“Fucking hell,” Dawson utters, then he’s ripping the towel off and climbing into Cal’s lap.

“What—”

Dawson takes his mouth in a kiss that exorcizes every rational thought—not that there were many to begin with—leaving only the most primal instincts behind. Having Dawson naked in his lap while he’s still fully dressed does something to Cal, making his blood boil and his skin tingle wherever they’re touching. Even so, he’d rather be naked as well, to be able to soak up every ounce of heat radiating from Dawson’s body.

Dawson rips his mouth away, panting into the space between them. “You can’t expect me to keep my cool when you say shit like that.” His pupils are blown wide, and he’s breathing heavily, gazing down at Cal like he wants to eat him up.

I did this to him,Cal thinks. The thought is addicting.

“Sorry?” he says, not meaning it in the least.

Dawson snorts. “No, you’re not.” He surges forward, the next kiss less savage but more desperate.

Cal wraps his arms around him and opens up, moaning when their tongues slide against each other. He could easily spend his whole life just kissing Dawson. Maybe he can. They’re writing a new story, after all.

Dawson withdraws again, his eyes narrowing. “Why do you taste like chocolate?”

Busted. “Well…”

“Have you been to the cafe without me?”

“Maybe?” He gives Dawson his most innocent look.

Dawson huffs, shaking his head. “Menace.” It’s hard to take him seriously when he proceeds to suck Cal’s soul out with his kisses, or when his fingers impatiently start working Cal’s shirt open, pushing it off his shoulders like the fabric caused him some major offense.

“Fuck.” The word comes out as a hoarse gasp. He moans when Cal’s hand wraps around his length, and he presses open-mouthed kisses along Cal’s jaw and chin. “What are you doing to me?”

You’re one to talk.“Making love?” Tightening his grip, Cal gives Dawson’s cock a firm stroke. God, he hopes he’s doing it right. He’s rewarded with a soft whimper and fingers digging into his shoulders. Reassured, he does it again, finding a rhythm that has Dawson rolling his hips into Cal’s fist.

“Yeah. Yeah, you are.” Another moan, louder than before, and then Dawson’s glazed over eyes find Cal’s. “Get lube.”

Cal’s movements stutter. “Isn’t it too soon?” He didn’t miss Dawson’s subtle wince this morning when he walked into the kitchen.

The smile Dawson gives would light up a dark room. He gently brushes Cal’s hair back, cupping the back of his neck. “I’m good, Cal. We took it nice and slow. I’m all good, I promise. And I want you.”

It’s hard to argue when Dawson is looking at him with heat that could rival the sun, and his cock is hard as steel in Cal’s hand, throbbing under his touch. And there is, of course, the obvious fact that he’s straddling Cal naked, all but offering himself up to him.

Cal never said no to him. He’s not sure he ever could. He certainly can’t now.

“I want you too. Always.” He wouldn’t know how to stop.

Dawson makes a noise in the back of his throat, like a wounded animal, before he’s on Cal—his lips, his hands, his scent—clinging to him so tight there’s no telling their heartbeats apart. Cal could drown in him—fuck, he wants to drown in him. Become part of Dawson just as Dawson is part of him.

They’re so lucky to have been given a second chance.Calis so lucky. He’s never been so glad to have lost his memories. If he had one wish, he’d wish for them to never come back.

He slides his hands under Dawson’s thighs, still slightly wet from the shower. Planting his feet firmly on the floor, he begins to stand up and promptly falls back when Dawson lets out a cry of protest.

“Whoa! Are you mad?!”

“I want to carry you. Like people do in the movies.”