Page 73 of Dear Mr. Brody

I dropped my forehead onto his shoulder, and he chuckled.

“Parker… your words are fucking brilliant.”

I turned my head and kissed the side of his Adam’s apple, inhaling the damp scent of his clean skin as his hands found my waist. “Thank you.”

“Would you mind if I showed them to my boss?”

“What?” I raised my head, thinking he was messing with me. “You’re for real?”

“I wouldn’t say it otherwise. The stories have potential.”

“To be published?”

“I think so,” he said. “With Anders’s guidance I think we—you could turn them into a novel. I believe in your work, Parker.” He stared at me, a few seconds passing in the silence, the water rinsing away the last traces of soap from our skin. He drew nervous circles on the edge of my hip with his finger. “Anders would look out for your best interests. Even if this doesn’t work out between us.”

“Are you going to tell him about us?” I asked, hoping for a yes.

I wanted someone to know, someone beyond this private bubble we’d created. It made it more real, made the thought of hiding this more bearable, made the“even if this doesn’t work out”sound less daunting. I wanted to tell Marcos, tell my best friend about this amazing guy who believed in me even if we’d only just started.

“I think I might have to.”

“But you don’t want to?”

He searched my face, a deep crease forming between his brows.

“I want to.”

The weight inside my chest shifted, making it easier to breathe.

“Are you worried about what he’ll think?”

He exhaled a long sigh and nodded. “My reputation is important to his firm. But I’ve thought about it a lot, and if we’re careful and make it through the semester, it should be okay. It’s not like I’m a full-time professor. I’m hardly there. I doubt anyone would notice once you’re no longer in my class.”

“I’d like to tell Marcos. He’s my best friend, and hiding it from him is—”

“Tell him.” Van framed my face with his hands, his thumbs sweeping across my cheeks. “If you trust him, I trust you.”

“He won’t say anything,” I said. “He’s been fucking with me about having a crush on you since day one of the semester.”

Van’s smile stretched across his face as he draped his arms over my shoulders.

“You had a crush on me?”

“I was totally hot for teacher.”

He hummed, his cheeks darkening again as he brought his lips to mine. We continued to explore each other under the guise of soap and water. Fingers and nails and skin. We touched and kissed until that tender pressure, that ache, boiled over.

“I need you to …” he said, between kisses. “I need…”

“What do you need?”

“Make me come, Parker.”

Slick and hard in my hand, Van watched with hooded eyes as I stroked his cock. I touched my lips to the hollow below his ear, kissing my way down his neck and shoulder. I moved lower, grazing his nipple with my teeth, and he threaded his fingers into my hair. Van rested his back against the shower wall, his grip tightening, the pinch of pain against my scalp made my mouth water.

Leaning down, I teased the head of his dick with my lips, his breath catching in his throat, I raised my eyes. “Is this okay?”

He nodded once, his desire evident in the rigid line of his jaw. But his uncertainty was there, too, storming inside his irises.