Page 121 of Grave Beginnings

“There you are,” he said. “You’re okay. I’m here. Breathe, baby. I’ve got you.”

The phantom smells lingered. A chill ran through me, and I shuddered. The sour edge of terror lingered in my sweat. I tried to shrug out of Angel’s grasp, hating to horrify him with how gross I felt.

“Sorry,” I said, trying to get away. “I need to shower.” And feel like I could escape the memories.

Angel guided me to the bathroom, a firm arm around my waist as he closed the door behind us and turned the shower on, testing the temperature, all without letting me go.

The bathroom light made my head pound, threatening a new headache. Angel flipped the fan on, leaving only that light as he turned off the overhead, and steam rose from the shower. His fingers found the waistband of my boxer briefs and I flinched. “I can do it.”

“You’re shaking,” Angel whispered, his expression soft. “Do you want me to stop touching you?”

I thought about that for a few seconds while the steam fogged up the mirror and he held me up. “No.” I didn’t want him to let go. Why did I want him so much? Even if it was just to hold me?

“Can I help you wash off the sweat?” Angel asked carefully. “We don’t have to do anything else,” he promised. “Your pace.”

I swallowed hard and nodded, feeling emotionally raw. “I’m gonna really need therapy, eh?”

He let out a long breath as he tugged my underwear down, and his own, before situating both of us in the shower, under the hot spray. The remaining chill of the nightmare retreated, and I hissed as the heated water washed away the memory.

“Yeah, maybe,” Angel said, holding me tight to him. His armsheld me like anchors, his heartbeat against my ear as I rested on his shoulder, skin to skin. The last, clinging traces of the memory dissolved into the steam, washed away by the heat and Angel’s embrace.

“Sorry,” I said.

“You want to talk about it?”

“No.” I had no desire to awaken those internal demons again.

He grabbed the shampoo from the shelf and took his time lathering my hair, scrubbing my scalp, and rinsing.

“You’re good at that,” I grumbled.

“Mhmm,” he agreed, and picked up my loofah.

“You don’t have to do that. My freak-out is over. It’s the middle of the night. I’m sure you’re tired too,” I said in protest as he soaped it up and began massaging my skin.

Angel guided the loofah over my skin, caressing my shoulders, down my chest, and over my stomach as if he were mapping every inch of me. The heat of the water loosened my muscles and eased the tension as I leaned against the bathroom wall and let him explore, unable to stop my breath from hitching as he roamed lower.

“Good?” Angel asked, nipping my lower lip. The loofah was soft against my hips, following the trail of my belly button.

“Yes,” I whispered, shuddering as his fingers ghosted over the tip of me, my cock hard and reaching, though I tried to ignore it. How did anyone stand in a shower with the hottest man alive and not feel something? Even half asleep, scattered from nightmares, the scent of him, his heat, and his touch threatened to shatter the last of my resolve and have me climbing him like a tree.

He trailed kisses over my face, a soft line of warm lips sliding from mine, across my cheekbone and back to my ear, his cheek rubbing against me. A little like a cat marking its territory. The idea of that made me groan. Angel thought of me as his. Because of our bond? Because he was just into me? Or a little of both?

I reached up to slide my fingers into his wet hair, enjoying the feel of him against me.

“Like that?” Angel asked as his thumb traced my hip bone, down the line to my groin, teasing, but not touching the aching length of me.

I grumbled incoherently, grateful the nightmare had vanished, but now filled with an incredible need I couldn’t put into words. Finally, I settled on, “Please.”

Angel let out a long, slow breath. “I got you,” he promised as he trailed another kiss over my cheek. I turned my head, catching his lips with mine, needing to taste him again.

He groaned, opening to sweep his tongue against my bottom lip, and when I parted my lips for him, he slid in, pressing me to the back of the shower and diving deep into my mouth. The water cascaded over us in a warm, soothing rush that made me sink into him as he pressed me into the wall. His strength, hot skin, and passionate kiss grounded me, easing away all the other worries that had plagued me for days.

He slipped his hand between us, fingers curling around my cock, and I gasped into his mouth, thrusting up into his hand.

“This okay?” he asked gently, lips brushing mine as he spoke.

“Yes, please,” I begged, and needed to touch him too.