“How would you help?” “You tell me, Marcos.” I slam my eyes shut at the way my name just sounded in that smooth, sinful voice. “Can I touch you, tonight?” “No,” I whisper, wondering if that’s going to be the end of this game. But Nate merely hums again, deep in his throat like he finds that answer arousing. “You’ll have to take off your own clothes, but I don’t mind. I like to watch.”
