Before I can get too comfortable, I see his eyebrows pinch together. Overthinking taking over his lovely features. Suddenly a wave of nervous energy jumps off his shoulders and right onto me.

He hesitates, taking a step back from me. "Stop messing around. This isn't funny—"

I'm not letting him get away that easily.

I catch his hand in mine, pulling him back into me. Wrapping my arm around his waist, I press him into me. Locking him in so he can't go anywhere.

"Do I look like I'm joking?" I ask, repositioning myself back to the way we were before he got all into his head. I take his hand and place it back on my waist, reassuring him to keep going.

Slowly, his thumbs slip under the hem of my shirt. My breath catches as his warm hands graze my stomach, hesitant but insistent at the same time. I bite my lip as I say a silent prayer he doesn’t stop again.

I tilt my head back, eyes closed, as a jolt of pleasure shoots through me.

His hands are fully under my shirt now, squeezing just under my ribcage. My eyes open and I meet his gaze.

He feels it too. It's written all over his face.

Holy shit. As we sway side to side to the beat, our hips grind together. Excitement rushes through me as I feel how hard he is against me. Does he feel what he’s doing to me too? It’s too much—and not enough.

“Caleb…” he breathes into my ear.

Him saying my name with my dick rubbing against his thigh makes my eyes nearly roll back.

“Yes?” I ask.

“I’m so… hot.”

I glance at him, taking in the heat in his expression. Whether he means temperature wise or how he’s feeling in this moment, all I know is—

I need to take care of him.

Without hesitation, I reach for the seam of his shirt and yank, sending buttons flying. It falls open to reveal his sculpted chest and V-lines that disappear into his pants.

Fuck.

I only saw a glimpse of his body after his shower but this…up close…is so much better.

He doesn’t look mad. He looks ready.

“Come with me. Now,” I demand, tugging his arm. I lead him toward the back of the club, where I saw people heading earlier.

Thankfully, my instincts are right. The hallway leads to a massive, multisex washroom.

People come and go from the stalls, and I spot an open one at the far end.

I shove Nathaniel inside and lock the door behind us. But when I turn around, I freeze.

His face is panicked. My stomach drops.

“Nathaniel,” I breathe, stepping closer. He closes his eyes and bows his head.

Shit. Maybe I read this wrong.

He raises his hands and places them on my waist like he did earlier. I lean my forehead on his, and place my hands on either side of his head against the door for balance. “We don’t have to do anything else,” I whisper, running my fingers through the hair on his temples.