“Oui,”I said as his fingers flexed. “And you owe me.”
I tugged on his lip then let it go to lean back on the wall.
“Make a mess of me, Shep. A royal fucking mess.”
His eyes trailed down my body, then back up to my face, as his arm began to pump the both of us harder and faster. The slippery soap mixed with both our pre-cum as I thrust forward, rubbing my dick against him in an erotic slide that was one of the sexiest moments of my life.
Shep lowered his head until his lips were in the crook of my neck, and as he ground against me, I wrapped my arms and leg around him to keep him as close as I could, wanting to feel the moment he let go, wanting to feel the hot rush of his cum as it made a mess of me.
I could feel his hot breath on my skin as he rushed toward the finish line, and when his body stiffened, my cock jerked against his and our shouts echoed off the shower walls. Our climax hit at the same time and we made a mess of each other.
It was as close to perfection as I could have imagined.
But that still didn’t mean I’d forgiven him for the fucking leeches.
32
SHEP
THE FLAMES CRACKLED in the fire pit as I placed a grate over them, along with the meat skewers I’d prepared earlier. Theo had watched from his perch on the counter, wine in hand, no offer to help on his tongue, which was his way of continuing to get me back for our hike earlier.
Not that he’d be much help anyway, considering he’d never been in a kitchen, much less knew his way around one. Sure, he knew how to wield a knife, but I wouldn’t trust him not to absolutely gut the steak into tiny pieces, so it was better to ply him with alcohol and send him on his way.
“Don’t let this compliment go to your head, but this is kind of impressive,” Theo said, topping off our glasses of cabernet. He settled back into the Adirondack chair beside mine and stretched out his legs. “I wouldn’t have guessed you liked to get your hands dirty—inallthe ways—but I’m learning a lot about you lately.”
“I can’t tell if I should be flattered or offended.”
“Don’t pretend you didn’t grow up with the same silver spoon in your mouth as I did. The White House has, what, at least ten chefs?”
“Five. But that was a long time ago.” I moved a couple of the skewers around to hit the higher flames and then reached for my wine. I was still a glass or two behind Theo and not yet feeling the nice buzz he seemed to have, but I was definitely more relaxed than I’d been in weeks. Part of me was still keeping an eye out just in case, but the likelihood of anyone finding us out here was almost zero, and I tried to keep that in mind as I took a long sip of my drink.
Theo shifted toward me, and I couldn’t help but notice that he hadn’t shaved in a few days, which only accentuated how full his lips were. They were just as much of a menace as the man himself. “So where’d you learn to do all this, then? Was there a survival course I missed when I joined?”
“There was. Cooking 101: How not to burn water.”
“And who was in charge of that one? Surely not King.”
It was an offhand comment, a joke, but just hearing King’s name, in this setting, was jarring, and I shifted my focus back to the food, making sure it didn’t burn.
Out of the corner of my eye, Theo’s mouth snapped shut, like he regretted speaking King’s name into existence. But then, like he couldn’t help himself, he said, “Did you come here with him?”
I looked back at him, and it was honest curiosity I saw in his expression. It made me wonder why he asked. Theo didn’t ask personal questions about King, or me and King, but it was obviously on his mind.
“Would that bother you?”
“No,” he said, a little too quickly, but then shrugged. “He’s your past. We all have one.”
“So it doesn’t bother you that King is my past?”
He swirled his wine. “I’d be lying if I said I didn’t wonder how you feel about it.”
“About King?”
“He seems to be a bit of a sore spot. Is it because you still have feelings for him? Or because he moved on? You never talk about it, and I remember how hard you took the breakup.”
I bristled at that, but he wasn’t wrong. And Theo had been there. All of my brothers had been. It wasn’t like this was a secret relationship to anyone in our inner circle. To the rest of the world? Yes. And that was the way King had wanted it.
“It’s”—I searched for the word, but nothing sounded right—“complicated.”
