He shrugged and got undressed. I pretended not to watch, but I couldn't help but peek as he took off his shirt, revealing his hard-muscled upper body. Blood rushed to my head, and I was thankful the motel's dim lighting hid my flush. After removing his shoes and socks, he took off his pants. At least he kept his underwear on. Seeing only his back, it was evident he never skipped leg day at the gym. His ass was firm and his legs strong. He got into bed, and I spun around so he wouldn't notice I was watching him.
"Come to bed, Shane. You need rest," he said.
I looked back at him to see he was under the covers and propped on his right side facing me. It was hard to say no despite knowing I should. I got up and removed my shirt, telling myself I was still going to sleep on the other bed. But then I took my jeans off and sat on the edge of the bed in my underwear, wondering what the hell I was doing. I knew I shouldn't get in his bed, but my heart and body were screaming for it.
I was weak, and I slid under the covers next to Andrew. I wasn't naked, but it wasn't like my underwear offered much resistance if things got heated. He moved against me, closing the distance between us. The heat of his skin caused my heart to race. It had been so long since I'd felt the touch of another man, and it hurt. Since losing Thomas, I'd had nothing like this. Andrew pressed his back against my body, and I listened to him breathe. It felt good. Hell, it felt wonderful. I could lay like this forever if given a chance. Sleep sought to overcome me. I didn't fight it. My last thought before the Sandman took me was my fear of falling for Andrew.