But first.
“The rules are the rules, Silas. When you’re happy to be here and when you’re not.” I paused. “Did you come straight from work?”
“Yes.”
“You can use the guest bathroom to clean up then,” I said.
Silas tucked his chin toward his chest and sighed heavily.
“The attachment is already in the shower for you.”
He worked his jaw back and forth, then nodded briefly. “I’ll be right back.”
“I know.”
He swallowed hard enough for me to see his Adam's apple bob, then he headed down the hallway like the weight of the world bore down on his shoulders. I waited until the door closed, then I went back to the kitchen to have at the wine I’d been pouring at his arrival. The red blend was fruity and dry, and I appreciated the way the flavor raced down my throat with every swallow.
In the bathroom, the shower turned on, and I groaned, pressing down against the base of my shaft to fight off my arousal. The effort was futile. Knowing Silas was in the shower naked, knowing he was in there preparing himself for me…
The erection was hot and heavy between my legs.
I finished the glass of wine and waited for the shower to turn off, except ten minutes later, it still ran. I washed my empty glass and Silas was still in the shower, so I made the executive decision to go check on him. Knocking on the door before twisting the knob, I gave him a heads-up about my arrival, which was met with a sniffling hiccup of a cough.
“Is everything all right in there, Silas?” I asked.
“Yes,” he mumbled.
“Have you taken care of things?”
Another sniffle. “No.”
“Have you been crying the whole time?”
The glass door of the shower was covered in steam, but I didn’t need him to wipe it away to see how his shoulders trembled with confirmation. I should have taken my clothes off, but I didn’t think it through. I pulled the door back and stepped under the spray, welcoming Silas into my arms. I held him briefly, kissed the top of his head, then reached around him for the nozzle attachment.
“Let me help you,” I whispered against the shell of his ear. He frowned against my chest, and I fought with the shower behind him, slicking the nozzle, pressing it between his cheeks and easing the steel length inside of him. Silas cried and tensed against me, fingers barely resting on my hips when I got the nozzle fully inserted.
“You’re dressed,” he murmured.
“You just now realized?” I stroked my hand down the length of his spine and sighed into his hair. I could feel him fighting his muscles to settle, even though he vibrated with all of the tears he still needed to let out.
It was going to be a long night.
“Let’s sort you out so we can sort you out.” I wrapped my arm around his back and banded our chests together. I was soaked, hair in my face and clothes sticking to every creviceof my body, but I’d deal with it later. My comfort was secondary.
He nodded his consent, because while we’d agreed he would do this, we’d never truly discussed my involvement with the process. I think he understood, though, that it was my job to help when he needed it, and in that moment, he needed it.
I flipped the valve on the shower head, and Silas started, going tense again before baring his teeth against my shoulder and letting out a whimper that had no business turning me on as much as it did.
“There you go,” I whispered to him, holding him tighter when he tried to fight away from me.
Together in the shower, we filled him, and when he grunted at me, I flipped the valve back to the overhead spray. Silas dug his fingers harder into my waist when I eased out the nozzle, and then he let everything go. Neither of us checked it, because the cleanliness was only half the point, at least as far as I was concerned. Silas was a twenty-five year old, virile man who bottomed exclusively. I didn’t need to check to know he took care of himself that way.
He still cried against my chest, so I kept him in my arms after I turned off the water, only pulling away long enough to wrap him in a towel. I set him on the closed toilet, then stripped out of my soiled clothes. Leaving them in a pile on the floor of the shower, I wrapped the other towel around my waist and turned my attention back to Silas.
Tapping my first finger against my thumb, I studied Silas carefully, knowing whatever decision I made for him, it had to be the right one. There were a lot of ways for me to get Silas to the place he needed to be, but not all of them were ideal. Some would do more harm than good; some could shatter trust where others would fortify it. Finally deciding, I guided Silas into the bedroom.
“Get dressed, sweetheart,” I said gently, getting him somesweats and a clean t-shirt from my dresser. My clothes were huge on him, but I loved the way they hung loosely on his slender frame. “Let’s go into the dining room.”
