I knew it. Not even a moment after he said he was fine withhooking up with me, he’s found an issue with us messing around.
“We won’t be able to fuck around at the office like we didtoday. I mean, maybe occasionally, but we’re gonna have to be more careful.”
“I have plenty of condoms,” I say it playfully, but it’s notreally a joke.
“That’s not what I mean,” he says, his brows lifting inamusement. “I just think it’d be a good idea for us to keep this as quiet aspossible.”
“Did you think I was going to tell someone? Who are all thesefriends you think I have?”
He laughs. “Whatever. You know what I’m saying.”
“I’m fine with keeping it however quiet we need to. I didn’tcome out here to start a riot in the office.”
“Well, you sure as fuck found a way,” he says, planting anotherkiss.
My dick shifts. His hand slides up my leg and he gropes myshaft. God, he makes me so fucking hot.
“Looks like it’s time to go again,” he says before kissing meagain.
I’m all his tonight. Ready for him to take me in whatever way hesees fit. I just want to be fucked again and again until I can’t thinkstraight. Until I forget all about the past.
And I hope he’s eager to fuck me until he loses all concept ofall the horrible things that have happened to him.
14
Reese
Jay stands behind the glass screen that divides the shower fromthe rest of the bathroom. He faces the wall. It’s an unspoken agreement we’vemade for when I’m entering. We never had to discuss it. He just knows I don’twant him to see me come in, and he doesn’t watch as I hop into the bathroom onone foot, across the rubber mat that covers the tile floor. There’s a mat inthe shower as well to keep me from slipping. For many years, I sat in a chairto wash off, like my prosthetist suggested, but this is how I prefer to livebecause I can have a shower that resembles the sort I used to have with myfully-functional leg.
I open the door to the shower and hop in, gripping onto themetal rail I installed along the wall. This is one of the many showers Jay andI have shared in the past two weeks—ever since we made this a regular deal.
He’s the only guy I’ve ever showered with since I’ve had myprosthesis. I’ve gotten used to taking it off around him, and I’m not as shyabout my residual limb, which cuts off mid-shin. Not fucking thrilled about himseeing it, but he never makes me feel like he’s judging me because of it. Justthe occasional uneasy glances, but he doesn’t push. Doesn’t askquestions—something I’m appreciative of.
He turns to me, smiling as he continues massaging some shampoointo his hair. “I think I got some in my eye,” he says, squinting.
I chuckle. I doubt he really did, but he’ll make a joke wheneverI have an awkward moment like this. I think he just wants to take my attentionoff my issues.
“You’re so full of shit,” I say as I approach him. I study hisface up close and he sneak-attacks me with a kiss. He grips onto the back of myhead and pulls me closer to him so that my head’s under the running water. I’mlost in the sensations he awakens within me, as I always am. Enjoying his touchlike when we were both screaming out in ecstasy just a few minutes ago.
He pulls away and opens his eyes wide. “Okay, so maybe I didn’thave anything in my eye after all,” he says, his lips curling into a wickedsmirk. I chuckle.
Never would’ve suspected a guy wound up as tight as Jay would beso playful, but the more we’re around each other, the more he acts like a kid.Silly. Teasing. Carefree. And it helps me take some things a little lessseriously.
We mess around a little in the shower before we finish up. Heleaves first, and I wait until he’s out to hop into my hands-free crutch. It’slike a mini crutch that I can strap my residual limb into so that I can getaround a bit to put on my prosthesis. It’s a pain in the ass to get it on, butI prefer to wear it when he’s here—usually won’t take it off until right beforewe go to sleep. I’m thankful that he gives me the privacy I need when I’mgetting in and out of it. That he doesn’t act like it’s some greatinconvenience.
Once I get my prosthesis on, I slide into a pair of boxers andhead into the kitchen, where he stands in front of the pantry, a box of PopTarts in his hand. I approach and wrap my arms around him as he removes achocolate tart from the foil wrapper. He takes a bite.
“Stop it,” Jay says, his mouth full of his midnight snack.
“Stop what?” I ask as I kiss along his neck. He chuckles as hetilts his head, inviting me to keep tasting the treat that is his body. A dropof water slides from his hairline, down his neck. He smells of my coconut bodywash.
With just a towel around his waist, his body is mine to enjoy asI grope and fondle his muscles—this gym-induced physique that I’m so fuckingappreciative of. I want Jay to know I’m grateful for every bit of effort he putsinto developing these muscles. But his sexual charisma extends far beyond hisbody. He’s the kind of guy who could be twenty pounds overweight, and I’d stillwant to drive my hard cock into him.
He backs his ass up against my pelvis, keeping his shoulderblades pressed against my chest. I love when he surrenders his body to me likethis.
He takes another bite of his Pop Tart, and I smile into hisneck. “Jay, you must’ve really worked up an appetite.” He spins around so I canfeel the hard-on beneath the towel against my boxers, my naked torso rubbingagainst his.
He swallows his snack and sets the remainder of it on thecounter beside him. I notice a few crumbs slip out of the wrapper. “Oh, shit,”he says, apparently sensing that my OCD impulses have kicked in. “Fuck. Sorry.”He breaks away and picks up the Pop Tart. He grabs a dish rag and wipes themess into the sink.
