How To Be Straight

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I continued to explore the room, becoming surprised at every new discovery. I noticed there was quite an expensive looking camera set atop one of the bookshelves, and I found myself tugging it free from its secured position. "You take pictures?"

Nicolas' turquoise eyes met mine almost immediately and he stared at the camera like it was an unknown object. "I did," he said, "but not anymore."

I walked back over to him and plopped down on the empty space next to him with the camera in hand. "Nonsense. I bet you're really good at it."

He smiled weakly. "I guess I have not found the right inspiration." I nodded as I fiddled with the buttons on the camera. I felt Nicolas' stare lingering on me and it wasn't long before he tried to grab the camera from me. "Can I?"

I gave another short nod and released the camera, allowing him to gain a full grip on it. He inspected it for a while before he turned it on and held it up to his face, aiming the lens at me. "Smile."

I curled my lips into a grin and when the camera flashed, Nicolas pulled the camera away from his face and stared down at the picture he had just taken. "It is beautiful," he commented, and then flicked his bright eyes to mine. "You are beautiful."

The blush was back again and there was no point hiding it now. "Thanks, er ... How do you say thanks in French?"

"Merci," he responded with a smile.

"Mare-si," I tried to say, but it probably came out like a huge fail.

Nicolas let out a low chuckle and brought his eyes back to mine again. He didn't say anything, but his eyes said enough. Shivers trickled down my spine when his hand found its way to my chin, tilting my head up slightly. My eyes widened with anticipation as he closed the gap between us and crashed his lips on mine. It was our second kiss and although the first kiss was perfect in its own right, this one made my heart do a thousand backflips in my chest.

His soft lips devoured mine, hot and passionate. His tongue grazed over my bottom lip, asking for entrance and I let him because I didn't want to refuse a fine specimen like himself. His tongue slipped past my lips and flicked over mine, playful and teasing. My arms instinctively found their place around his neck, allowing myself to sink into him. His hands fell to his sides at first, but they soon worked their way up to my waist, then slipping past the fabric of my shirt, and then roaming all over my bare stomach. I wanted him to keep kissing me and keep touching me for as long as he wanted. If he wanted to go all the way, then I would sure as hell let him.

He broke away from the kiss, though, breathing heavily and looking down at me with dark, lustful eyes. "I apologize, Calvin, I got carried away."

"No, no," I objected, feeling slightly desperate for his touch. "It's okay, I kinda, uh - no, I really liked it."

Nicolas shook his head in disbelief and let a little French fall from his lips, "Tu es mignon."

I smiled at him. "Can I tell you something?"

He placed his hands on my knees. "You can tell me anything."

"You're my first kiss," I blurted out, "like ever."

"I hope to be many of your other firsts."

My heart swelled at how ridiculously romantic he was being. He really was the perfect guy.

He moved closer to me. "May I ask something, now?"

"Yes."

"Why are you friends with Derek?" His eyebrows knitted together as he looked at me expectantly, obviously wanting a genuine answer.