Page 26

finn

Laying on my back in my bedroom, I focus on the ceiling, feeling like a huge piece of shit.

I shouldn’t have said what I did to Carter after we both orgasmed.

But he always pulls away after. The moment he finishes, his brain clears, and he takes ten steps back from me.

I wanted to strike before he did this time, and I shouldn’t have.

He said he would try, and tonight he did.

He gave me pieces of himself that I thought I would have to try harder to receive.

There’s no way he doesn’t feel this between us.

I recognized it from the first moment I laid eyes on him at Temptations.

He’s different. We’re different. He’s straight-up admitted to never doing anything like this before, so he may not even recognize this for what it is.

The shit he confessed about his brother, it’s no wonder why he’s so closed off.

After seeing the aftermath of a love lost, being so young and not understanding the heartbreak?

Carter has walls up that were directly because of that.

I want to be the person to break them down, to show him how beautiful a relationship and being loved can be.

Feeling like a piece of shit, I get off my bed and walk through the house in search of Carter to apologize.

His door is closed, but I don’t let that stop me, letting myself into the room with confidence.

The noise from the shower leads me to him, the door separating us barely cracked open.

Steam fills the bathroom, and I hesitate for just a moment.

I’ve never wanted anything as much as I want him. If he would only give in to what this is between us. I’m going to find a way to save us both through this shit situation and then I’m going to open his eyes to how good we can be together.

I just can’t come clean about everything yet.

Do I feel guilty for manipulating him into spending the weekend with me?

Slightly. But he needed it and he sure as shit wasn’t going to face what he’s feeling while being compressed by everything around him that has already decided for him who he is.

Carter needs to figure that out on his own.

If it isn’t me? So be it. At least I gave him the opportunity to explore and find out. But I’m it for him. I feel it.

Slipping into the bathroom, my clothes already discarded, I’m careful not to make any noise.

Carter’s body is under the spray, his back to me, barely visible through the thick condensation that’s collected on the glass shower door.

His head is in his palms as the stream beats down on the back of his neck.

I can feel the emotion pooling off of him in waves.

For a moment, I see myself—alone, wanting comfort in another person, lost, and confused—and I want to be for him what I need for myself.

Without wasting another minute, I pull open the door, startling him ever so slightly, and step onto the tile floor.

Instead of fighting me, instead of turning around and demanding I get out, he doesn’t move at all, and I don’t know which is worse.

My feet slap against the wet tile floor, leading me directly behind him.

Reaching for him, my hands rub over the strong, sinewed muscles of his back, trailing downward until I reach his hips, where I confidently fold myself over him, my arms curling around his body.

His firm ass is nestled perfectly against my crotch for the first time, and while I’ve dreamed of this scenario on more than one erotic occasion, there’s nothing sexual about this moment.

My hands rub up each hard muscle of his six-pack abs until I reach his chest, pulling him further into me.

His head lifts, hands moving outward, palms lying flat against the wall to brace us, and I hold him.

He doesn’t hug me back, but he doesn’t push me away.

My heart runs rampant behind the walls of my chest. I’m attuned to every fiber of him—every breath he takes, his body rising and falling at a natural, calm rhythm, the goosebumps that scatter across his smooth skin from my touch, the way his steady heartbeat is racing behind his ribs.

I lean into his neck, pressing a firm kiss at the base, right above his broad shoulder.

We stand there for minutes, maybe hours, just me holding him as close as possible.

But after I’ve decided that we should wash before the water runs cold, I take a step back, releasing him from my arms. No words are spoken as I pump soap into my palms, rubbing them together before returning my hands to his back.

I start at his rounded shoulders, massaging my hands into his strong muscles, using my thumb to draw firm circles at the base of his neck.

His body melts into me like warm butter.

I can visibly see the tension leaving his body before moving down his sexy back.

Ever so slowly, I work my way down his body.

The water sluices over his toned silhouette, my fingers digging into his firm glutes, under his perky ass, and down the back of his thighs.

Carter stands there and lets me explore his body in a way that he never has before.

It’s always been fast and dirty between us, me allowing him to be in control so he can justify his actions in his head.

He’s never touched me more than he has to, never touched my dick, and I’m okay with that for now.

I get that he hasn’t been ready to take that plunge.

I’ll be what he needs right now. I just want to be enough.

My fingers touch his hips, applying a bit of force so that he turns around and faces away from me.

I pump the shampoo into my palm, working it into a lather before massaging it into his scalp with the pads of my fingers.

His head drops back to make it easier on me, more tension leaving his body as he sags against me.

I work my fingers through his hair, scalp, and the base of his neck, running my fingers through his thick, silky hair, water rivulets cascading over his shoulders and down his back.

He lets out a little breathy moan and it makes me feel so damn good to pleasure him in such an intimate way.

His eyes stay closed as I turn his body to face me, leaning his head back and allowing me to rinse his hair.

Once it’s running clear, Carter opens his eyes, reaching behind me to pump soap into his hands, and then he does the unthinkable—meets my eyes while his strong hands rub soap over my pecs, over my collarbone, and expand outward to my shoulders.

His strong hands slide over my body, and I have to bite my bottom lip to stifle the groan that wants to release.

I’ve never been touched like this before, and it’s killing me.

Carter’s hands on me feel incredible. He washes the top half of my body slowly, his eyes tracking every inch his hands glide over, like he’s just as mesmerized with me as I am him.

When his hands dip further down, smoothing over my hips and avoiding my groin, he pauses, and not wanting to make him uncomfortable, I speak up, too afraid the tension that has pulled taut between us will snap at any moment, breaking whatever spell he’s under.

“It’s okay. I’ll do it,” I reassure him, my voice soft and understanding, even though my heart fractures slightly.

Running my hands across the soap on my abdomen, I work over the short, coarse hair of my pelvis, and just as I’m about to grab my dick, Carter’s fingers circle my wrist, gently pulling it away.

My head shoots up to look at him, my eyes flicking back and forth between his, trying to read his thoughts through his masked expression.

Without a word, his fingertips ever so slightly run up the length of my dick in the most delicate of touches, and the electric current that spreads through my body nearly brings me to my knees. The force of the pleasure just from his barely there touch is enough to make me come on the spot.

He hesitantly closes his fist around my hard length, his fingers wrapping around it, his head focused down, watching in rapt attention. His thumb slides over my engorged head, sending shivers down my spine, a whimper escaping my lips.

“You like that?”

A rough exhale leaves my lips, my heavy eyes trying to focus on his. “Yeah. Yeah, I like that.”

“I’m making you feel . . . good?”

Fuck. My sweet man. He’s so damn unsure and lost right now and needs reassurance. This I can do. Easily.

“Yeah, lover, you’re making me feel so damn good. You’re stroking me so perfectly. Please don’t stop.”

His fist tightens slightly, as if I gave him the courage to keep going, his own cock rock hard, jutting out in my direction.

I reach for him, my palm facing upward and sliding under his sack, my fingers toying with the space between his balls and ass, rolling the heavy weight of them in my hand.

We both seem to be insatiable, having just come and already easily working each other back up again.

I’ve never experienced such hunger before.

There’s no rush this time, neither of us is in a hurry to climax, content to sensually explore each other this way.

“Finn,” he hisses as I move up the thick length of his dick and take him in my hand, matching the steady cadence of his movements around me.

Our chests are rising and crashing hard, our breaths panting as he meets my eyes again.

His pupils are blown, the blue irises stormy with lust. And then the dam breaks.

His free hand moves quickly, his fast reflexes always surprising, palm grabbing the back of my neck and jerking me forward, his lips crashing against mine.

I feel the power behind his kiss down to my toes, my body a live wire, completely giving in to him—I’m at his mercy, and for once, he’s not exploiting it; he’s giving in and giving as much as he’s taking.