One of Michael’s favorite things in the world was showering with Graham—or it had been.
Now, he was going to enjoy that flash from their past. They both deserved this.
As their hearts knitted back together, he wanted the man to know.
“I’m sorry I hurt you.”
Graham blinked.
“I deserved it.”
Gently, he put his fingers over his lips, and stared into his green eyes.
“No, Graham, you absolutely didn’t. I need you to stop believing you were the bad guy in all of this. We share this equally. It was both of us.”
Graham’s heart skipped.
This was D’Artangnan to his core. He always was honorable, and kind. He’d never make anyone hurt intentionally.
So, he let him lead.
He simply nodded.
And let the man take care of him.
His fingers slipped across his flesh, and he gently soaped up his body. The whole time, Graham shook from the pleasure alone.
He was hungry for his man.
No.
He was starving, and Graham had been abstaining from these emotions for a very long time. They threatened to overwhelm him.
And he wanted it.
Graham wanted all he had to offer.
As D’Artangnan soaped up his body, he moved to his erection, and that’s when his head dropped back.
Oh, holy Hell’s bells.
There was an absolute difference from when some stranger touched him, and this man did. Every single nerve ending was screaming in pleasure, and he was overwhelmed.
And not thinking.
Had he been, he’d be worried about protecting D’Artangnan from all the countless, unprotected one-night-stands he’d had.
Instead, he was only thinking about this one moment.
“I’ve missed your body,” Michael whispered, as the man leaned back against the wall and let him touch him wherever he wanted.
Graham whimpered in pleasure as they stood under the shower and the cascade of warm water.
It washed over them, but neither paid any attention to that, since they were both focused on the other man’s hand on Graham’s erection.
“Maybe I’m dead,” Graham muttered. “That has to be it because this can’t be real.”
Oh, Michael understood.
