This is ridiculous!
I wrap my hand around my shaft and squeeze. I’m fully resigned to the fact that there is only one option to try and get my dick to chill.
I rest my head against the tile as I start to quickly run my hand up and down my length, the friction combined with the cold water making my breath stutter. I’m panting and I’ve barely touched myself but I’m being rougher with myself than usual in a hope to get this resolved as quickly as possible. The cold water and precum make due for lubrication.
Unbidden, images of Elle flash through my mind.
Her chocolate eyes narrowed, those pretty pink lips pursed. I wonder what her lips would look like with a full genuine smile pointed at me.
What they would feel like fighting against mine in a feverish kiss
What they would feel like stretched around my cock as I fucked her face.
It feels like my spine is on fire and my orgasm hits me hard and fast. Hot ropes of
my release coats my hand and the floor of my shower. I wash away the evidence but don’t immediately turn off the water or step out of the shower.
I bang my head against the wall once, twice, three times for good measure.
I’m going to hell.
Chapter Twelve
PATRICK
After the debauchery in the shower, I made quick work of packing a backpack for the hike tomorrow and I forced myself to bed. Not that I actually got any sleep, guilt twisted my insides into knots.
Regretfully accepting my exhaustion as penance for my actions yesterday, I roll out of bed and slowly stride across to my dresser.
Early bird getting the worm or whatever.
I didn’t want to turn on the lights in my apartment, hoping the dark would keep my guilt or dick from growing again. Most of my clothes were appropriate for a hike, so I didn’t pay attention to what I grabbed, shoving my head through my shirt.
With how early it is, I decide to shrug on a lighter flannel. Checking my pack had room to fit the flannel once it warmed up on the hike, I tossed in my wallet and closed it up. I wanted to drag my feet but, really, there was nothing else I needed to get done.
The drive back to the Farm was quiet and fast. Not many people were on the road at 5 in the morning on a Saturday.
I’ve been to Donna Warren’s house before as it was included during a more extensive tour around the Farm on my second dayhere. Mabel had volunteered to take me and introduced me to the Warren matriarch. Mama Donna—as she insisted I call her—was as warm and welcoming as her eldest and youngest children.
I did leave the meeting feeling a tinge of melancholy. Physically, Mama Donna held no resemblance to my own mother but the warmth she projected was a punch in the gut I had not prepared for.
I pulled into the empty gravel parking area on the side of the main house. Was I the first one to arrive? My hiking boots crunch on the gravel as I unfold myself from my vehicle. For a brief moment, I worried that everyone had caught whatever bug was plaguing Henry. I was quick to dismiss this hoping that one of the Warrens would have reached out and let me know.
I knock on the door, tapping out a shave and a haircut onto the front door. The lights in the home offer a warm glow and calm my nerves that others will be here and I am just early. The door swings open and I am assaulted by scents of cinnamon and breakfast meats.
“Oh my dear boy! You scared the crap out of me.” Donna laughs as she wraps me in a hug that pulls at my heart. I tentatively returned her hug, “I'm so sorry Donna, Mabel told me to be here by 5:30?” I rush out the apology as she releases me.
“Oh, that stinker.” She shakes her head but doesn’t seem actually put out if the wide smile that paints her face is any indication. “I told you to call me Mama Donna, mister and everyone else should be coming around 6, so you’re not too early.” I step into the open door and Mama Donna turns, heading towards what I am assuming is the kitchen. “Follow me!”
I make quick work of shutting the door and following her to the dining and kitchen area “Is there anything I can do to help?” I’m not one to sit and watch others handle business if I’m ableto help. “Oh, you're such a dear. Sit right there at the table and tell me about yourself. We didn’t get to chat for long when Mabel brought you over.”
Internally, I’m cringing, I don’t love talking about myself but I can’t bring myself to refuse her. I give her the spark notes of my childhood. Moving every couple of years for my parents work, losing my parents shortly after I turned 18 and traveling wherever the wind took me after I was able to pull myself out of the grief cloud I lived in for a couple of years.
As I’m getting into my cruise line employee escapades, the front door slams open. I startle so hard I almost jump out of my chair but Donna is unaffected—only rolling her eyes and muttering about her dang kids.
“Mom, it smells ah-maze-ing in here!” It feels like Mabel’s declaration echoes throughout the house. She and Lola follow the echo moments later. Lola spots me at the table and squeals in delight, causing my cheeks and ears to burn pink.
I’ve had nice employers before but the Warren family is definitely the most excitable. “I’m so happy you’re here, we are going to have so much fun!” Lola’s basically vibrating with excitement at this point.
