“What about me?” Callum asked, that scratchy voice of his vibrating through Jack’s body.
“You’re the best thing I’ve ever seen,” Jack told him honestly.
The pink flush crept up Callum’s neck to his throat.
“Get in the shower,” Jack grunted, advancing on him.
He reached past Callum and pulled the shower curtain back, allowing the steam buildup to billow into the room. Callum turned in the hollow of Jack’s arms and stepped into the shower, crowding under the spray to make room for Jack, who easily filled the space.
He couldn’t believe the perfection that was Callum. That this man in front of him in the shower was the man he’d been talking to online since the spring. He exceeded every hope and expectation Jack didn’t even know he’d had.
Callum pulled a black puff off a hook on his shower caddy and squirted soap onto it, using his hand to build a lather.
“Can I wash you?” he asked, turning in Jack’s arms and holding the puff between them.
“I wanted to take care of you.”
“Mmn, but this would make me happy,” Callum said, pressing the puff against Jack’s chest and moving it in a circle over his left pectoral. “And isn’t that part of taking care of me?”
Callum raised an eyebrow at Jack and continued to wash him, the soft scent of his oatmeal soap floating on the steam. He moved to the other side of Jack’s chest and down to his stomach, working around his hips and up his ribs. He moved his hands around to Jack’s back, up his neck into his hairline and down to the crack of his ass, working his fingers over Jack’s skin like it was a dance he’d been rehearsing his entire life. Callum’s motions were calculated and practiced, but not seasoned.
Callum moved deftly avoided the scar from Jack’s surgery then dragged his soapy hands down his thighs, squatting down to reach his calves and feet, leaving no inch of skin untouched. He tapped Jack’s leg and he turned obediently. Callum worked his way back up, sliding soap-slicked fingers between the cheeks of Jack’s ass, paying close attention to his hole before applying the slightest bit of pressure and moving on.
Jack tsked at Callum, who turned him back around slowly. He was met with a smirk across Callum’s face when he passed off the puff.
“You know I’m vers, Daddy. Don’t look so scandalized.”
Jack did know Callum was vers, and it was something he’d managed to push to the back of his head…until now.
He took the puff and returned the same attention and affection to Callum, pressing their bodies together when he was done and moving them both under the water to rinse. He made the decision to forego hair washing, instead reaching behind Callum to turn the water off.
Jack pulled the curtain back and grabbed one of the towels, drying Callum and wrapping it around his shoulders before drying himself and stepping out. Callum wandered into his bedroom and pulled a clean pair of briefs out of a drawer, tossing the towel onto the bed before he stepped into them, arranging his cock then bracing his hands on his hips.
Jack dropped his towel in the doorway and stalked across the room, backing Callum into the wall and slanting their mouths together. He took Callum’s lips with his, fucking his mouth, owning it and pouring every grunt and moan of need that had built up the past three months into his precious little kitten.
Callum made a high-pitched whine that Jack swallowed, his need growing urgent. He cupped Callum’s cheeks in his hands and deepened the kiss, however that was possible, and Callum met him just as forcefully.
He didn’t stop until he felt satisfied he’d be able to live with a breath that didn’t involve the same air Callum breathed. Pulling back the barest amount, he exhaled an apology against his mouth.
“What on earth are you sorry for?” Callum panted, bucking his hips against Jack’s naked body.
“I want you for more than this,” Jack swore, pressing a slower, more chaste kiss against the corner of Callum’s mouth.
“I know, Daddy. But it’s okay to want me for this too.” He nipped at Jack’s lip. “You can want me for this all night.”
“You’ll get yourself in trouble talking like that.”
“God, I hope so.” Callum bit him harder.
Jack pumped his hips and thrust Callum into the wall. “You’re not ready to be punished, kitten.”
“I’m ready for everything. I’m ready for you.” He rolled his head against the wall exposing his neck to Jack’s mouth.
Callum was acting, much to Jack’s amusement, very much like a kitten—eager for physical contact and affirmation.
“What time is it?” Jack asked, his lips firm against Callum’s throat.
“Ugh. Almost midnight. I’m gonna be in such deep shit with Landon.”
