“Good.” He turns, disappearing into the bedroom. Standing, I hear the shower turn on, and I try not to overthink why he doesn’t want to have sex with me.
Pushing away the negative thoughts, I walk the rest of the way to find that his pants and boxer briefs have already been left on the bathroom floor.
“You ready?” he asks, causing me to look up to where he stands in all of his naked glory.
And every bit of him truly is glorious.
Maybe this was a bad idea.
Need gathers in my core, and I breathe in deep, reminding myself he said this wasn’t going to lead to sex.
Letting my gaze wash over him again, the metal in the tip of his cock catches the light, and I wonder how hard it would it be to convince him to give in?
“I’m up here.” He chuckles.
“Sorry…I…”
“Got distracted?”
Blush paints my cheeks. “Yeah.”
I slowly strip my clothes off under his stare and then walk across the tile floor joining him outside the shower.
“Hi,” he says, reaching up and tucking a strand of my hair behind my ear.
“Hi.”
He opens the door and grabs my hand, helping me step inside. The warm water cascades over me, easing the tension in my shoulders and neck. Everett follows after me, moving in close behind.
“Can I touch you?” he asks.
I nod, and his hands find my shoulders. I let out a low moan as his hands trail down my upper arms and then back up, grazing my skin softly. Goosebumps erupt across my body, and he laughs to himself as he begins rubbing the tight muscles across the top of my back.
“That feels good.”
“Good.” He continues to massage me, and I let my eyes close. I knew he knew how to use his hands, but I didn’t know he knew how to use them like this. His touch is tender and full of care. My stomach flutters. Another moan escapes, and I allow my mind to quiet. Moving down my back, he then runs his hands just above my ass and relieves the stress I’m holding there too.
“Is that okay?” he asks.
“Mmhmm,” I hum.
He pauses, and my eyes open.
“Why did you stop?”
“Hold on. I’m just getting some soap.” He chuckles as he pumps some body wash into his hand. “May I?”
I nod again, and he rubs the soap between his palms. The sugar cookie scent fills the steamy shower, and he begins to work my body under his touch. His hands are gentle yet firm, and my body continues to melt as he lathers every inch of my upper half, except for my breasts.
Kneeling behind me, his hands find my leg.He moves from my ankle to my upper thigh, stopping just short of touching me where I wish he would. This whole massage is starting to feel like a tease, and with every touch, my desire for him builds.
I let out a disappointed moan as he moves to my other leg, repeating the same motion.
“You can touch me,” I say.
“I am touching you,” he says, pumping some shampoo into his hand.
“You know that’s not what I meant.”
