Strong, familiar hands land on my shoulders. “As often as I possibly can,” Anders says, propelling me forward. “And we’re going to need at least an hour.”
For once, Roly is speechless, and his face is absolutely priceless.
We walk out the door and up the stairs, both of us laughing. Once in the apartment, Anders closes the door, locking it behind us. He pulls me in for a brief, hot kiss, then leads me down the hallway to a bathroom with a generous shower and a rather convenient built-in bench.
Wordlessly we disrobe, our eyes never leaving each other. He starts the shower, and once it’s nice and hot, we both get in and pull the curtain on the world outside.
“I wonder if there’s any value in fucking before—”
Before he can complete the sentence, I step into his arms and push my face behind his jaw. Anders swallows hard at the show of affection, but just as quickly he snakes his arms around me, warm and strong.
My breath is shaky in his careful hold. Part of me just wants to get back to banter, but the bigger part of me recognizes that, while I worked very hard to accept and love my sexuality, there has been a gaping void inside of me. Maybe for longer than I realized.
And when you’ve withheld from yourself for so long, it hurts to need.
It hurts even more to pretend I never needed anyone. My father and the general tried to beat it out of me, but I’ve done the hard work of taking back my humanity. Now I want to enjoy it.
And I’m standing here on stolen shower time, realizing—dumbstruck, really—that I’m in love with this man.
Seriously, fuck anyone who tries to takethataway from me.
We stand there under the shower for a long time, and he’s just holding me. He doesn’t make a move, he doesn’t try to hump me, he just stands there. Solid. Strong.
Running his hands through my hair, he kisses my temple. “Want me to wash your hair?”
I lean back and our eyes catch. The intensity that has always been there is vibrating between the two of us. Wordlessly, I nod, and he gives me a sweet smile, never breaking eye contact as he reaches for the shampoo.
Because we’re the same height, I lower my head to his collarbone, and he pours a generous amount of shampoo into his hands and works it through my hair, his nails scratching my scalp, sending warm energy down my neck and chest.
He grabs the showerhead, rinsing me off gently. Carefully he grabs my chin and tilts my face toward his. That same warm look in his eyes, he gives me a small grin, and we both lean in for a gentle kiss. Still kissing, he reaches over for the bar of soap and runs it over my body, scrubbing my armpits and groin with care and a few dirty touches thrown in for good measure. His deft fingers slip into all my cracks and crevices, ensuring that every millimeter of skin is pristine before rinsing me off.
He continues to kiss me, but the gentleness fades into the background and we begin to kiss with more urgency.
I wrap my arms around his back, bringing him in close. He reaches behind me and grabs a handful of ass, using it as leverage.
Pulling back, he hits me with that patented Anders grin. I narrow my eyes. “I know that look. That look is trouble.”
He chews the end of his thumb, smirking behind the gesture. “Me? Trouble? That seems unlikely.”
I raise my eyebrow at him, fighting back the smile. “Okay, fine. What’s that look about, then?”
“I can’t tell if I like it better when we’re ripping each other’s clothes off or when you go soft for me.”
I look down at my body and back up at him with another eyebrow arch. “There is nothing soft on my body.”
Anders gives me his own up-down, that cocky grin perfectly in place as he puts his palm on my chest. “I can’t argue with that. Your body and everything attached to it is rock hard. But that wasn’t what I was talking about.”
I glance to the side, unable to maintain eye contact. “I don’t think the kind of work we do allows for people to be soft.”
He smiles, supremely confident. “Bullshit. Rafi is soft as all get out, and he is clutch in the blind.”
“I didn’t know that I could be soft with you,” I admit quietly.
He slides his hand from my chest up to my neck, pulling me back into him. Touching his forehead to mine, he whispers, “You can be as soft or as hard as you need to be, baby.”
“Promise?”
He kisses my cheeks and then my lips, so, so gently. “Cross my heart.”
