Understand, I want to stay. I want to keep him pulled up against me. I want to push him against the wall and feel his tightness as I slip myself into his body, and I want to feel the clench of his orgasm bearing down on my cock. Better yet, I want to take him to my bed and keep him there until dehydration and starvation force us to forage for sustenance. But, given the fact that he avoided me for three days after our first hand job, he’s not ready for that. I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing, but my instinct tells me to give him space and see if he follows.
Because, hell, if I’m going to break my employee rule, might as well break the rest of them.
He waits till I’m finished before turning off his shower and coming into the changing area. I look back one last time as I leave, and he’s sitting on the bench, towel wrapped around him, a bit shell-shocked. I frown, worried that maybe I’d done the wrong thing, but he chuckles to himself and begins getting dressed, so I leave him to it.
* * *
Elijah
Two days later.
I hate having to lie, but my shared bathroom situation is frankly untenable. I shower here because it’s way better than my other options. Cleaner, too. I make my way into the gym, then head over to the locker rooms and shove my backpack into my locker on top of the clothing I leave here. Since I know it’ll just be me, I don’t bother with a towel.
I walk into the entrance of the showers, heading in the direction of the one I prefer, and am completely terrified when a soft voice says, “Hey, I’m here.”
I stiffen up until I see Nick’s concerned face. Just as quickly, his arms are around me, nearly making me jump out of my skin. “Not cool, dude. Not cool.”
Nick bites his lip, obviously regretful, and pulls me into a big hug. “I’m so sorry. I was trying to warn you that I’m here. Won’t happen again, I promise.”
I don’t tell him, but I like the way his hands feel on me, and any anger I had of being frightened bleeds away instantly.I’m left feeling shaky and vulnerable.
God, he confuses the hell out of me. After the last time, I got the distinct impression that I was nothing more than a little stress relief. But… sometimes, the way he looks at me, I’m not so sure. I wonder if maybe I haven’t assumed a little too much about him. Right now he’s looking down at me with concern in his eyes, and his hands continue to roam my biceps, my back, and now my hips.
“You so totally are going to have to make that up to me.”
He ruffles my hair, then leads me over to our shower. Turning the head away while it warms up, he stares at me, lust in his eyes. “All right then, saddle up.”
Fuck, his hands are damn magic, and he’s got both of them on me. One gripping at my balls in a way that is… well, it’s making my eyes roll back in my head. As he does that, he pulls out a small bottle of silicone lube from seemingly out of nowhere. Pouring a bit into his palm, he strokes me up and down firmly, and a full-body shudder almost puts me on the floor. I place my hands on his shoulders, digging my fingers into the meaty parts of his muscles, and begin snapping my hips in time with his strokes, pushing into him with exactly zero skill.
He removes his hands from my junk, then stills my jerking, overwrought hips. Leaning into my ear, he whispers roughly, “No, no, baby. I’ve got you. Let me take you over the edge.”
There are probably about a million filthy words in the dictionary that he could have used in that moment, but those simple phrases take my brain completely out of the equation. I do as he asks and still my hips, even though it’s going against every firing, straining muscle in my body. Between the water pounding down on me and his firm, pumping grip, I’m at the edge in seconds.
“Yeah, baby. I feel your balls tightening up for me. You gonna come for me? Why don’t you come for me right now.”
I look up, speechless, and am met with the full force of his stare, the command making me shoot harder than, like, ever. Seriously, the cum almost clears his damned shoulder.
I could get used to this.
* * *
Either something is wrong with Nick’s shower, or he really likes giving me hand jobs. It’s not every morning, but enough to make me want to come in early most days to work. We’ve definitely stopped using two different showerheads, and when one of us sees the other, we simply join them where they are.
I don’t mean to be such a touch slut, but these early-morning hand jobs are some of the best sex I’ve had. Certainly the most sex I’ve had in the last five years. Once we’re done, he usually walks off with a little something in his stride, almost always throwing some quip over his shoulder.
Thanks for undoing my knots, bro.
Nice cumshot, dude.
You need better shampoo, man. That shit dries my junk.
I should be grateful that he’s at least not calling me kid anymore, but I wish he’d use my name. I do like it when he calls mebabe, but he only does that when his executive function is compromised by my hand on his cock. Sometimes, he gets so cum drunk that he pulls me into a hug and kisses the top of my head. I try not to lean in it too much, to give my position away. But when I dream about him, and Idodream about him, he’s holding me as often as he’s fucking me.
Chapter Seventeen
Nick
I like how Elijah waits for me in the shower now. The way he looks up at me with those big ice-blue eyes… it hits me in the gut every time. Don’t tell anyone, but I’m starting to develop a fondness for the man.
