I said, “Och aye, Torin.Ye like that? Ye like it when I say it like that?”
I do.
Och aye, Torin
He reached out for me but I stepped back while shoving my pants down, wiggling my hips to get them to the ground.
His eyes opened wide, admiring me. “This is a verra good thing, I haena had enough of the sight of ye.”
“God, I hope not, Torin, you’ve only seen me naked a couple of times.”
His breath was coming really fast. He reached out for me again, but I stepped into the shower.
“Ye canna… tis nae… ye hae tae allow it.”
I submerged my head under the water, letting the warm shower water soak my hair and rivulets rolled down my body. My eyes closed, I asked, “You want me,Torin?”
His eyes were on me hard, he didn’t answer, he looked like his mind had gone animal. I grasped his hand and drew him into the shower, “Be careful of your bandages, don’t let them get wet.”
“I will be careful.” His big rough hand grabbing my hips and roughly pulling them toward his.
I teased, “This is a small shower, there might not be room for the three of us.”
A laugh came from his throat. “Ye are speakin’ on m’cock?”
“Oh yes, I am, Torin, I can’t think of much else.”
His mouth pressed against mine, water rushing down our faces, my lips parting for his tongue as his hand found its way between my legs and began playing there… warm water sluiced between us. I poured soap in my palm and my fingers traced every ridge of muscle and scar along his back and his arms as his calloused palms slid over my wet skin, soap forgotten, his grip sure and hungry.
He pressed my back to the cold tile. His teeth grazed the edge of my throat as his palms rubbed around my ass and under my thighs and lifted me from the floor. I wrapped my legs around his waist and he growled, deep in his throat, as my leg pulled his hips closer — he entered me with a rush. My breath catching, his forehead pressed to the tile, he held me firmly as he pounded his hips against me, our soap-slick bodies sliding together. It was intense and awesome, the tight grip on my rear as the friction ofour bodies built a heat hotter than the water itself, raining down on us, we were drenched like a summer storm.
Finally, the slow, reverent press of his lips against my throat at the last forceful thrusts of him — a moan escaped my lips, his voice in my ear, his name on my breath,Oh God, Torin,as he relaxed against me, and released his hold. The last of the soap circled the drain, carrying the day’s battle away with it. He slowly let me slide down until my feet touched the bottom of the tub. We kissed long and deeply. Our hands hung down by our sides,I am spent.
“Now I need a nap, not a dramatic time jump tae a battlefield.”
I straightened up and rinsed my hair. Then I rinsed soap off of him, checking to make sure his bandage had stayed dry.
“I suppose, Laird of Time, that you couldnap, we could go after…?”
“I best not, every minute spent not going might convince me not tae go.”
“Yeah, I get that.”
I turnedoff the water and we both toweled off. I dressed in a pair of joggers and a t-shirt. He had to put on one of my over-sized sleep shirts, most were pink or had ridiculous slogans on them, not for wearing outside, but I had one with a photo of Arnold as the Terminator on it. I found a pair of gray sweatpants big enough for him to wear to go with it.
He held up the shirt. “What dost it mean?”
“Well, that is hard to explain, it’s from a movie. He’s the Terminator, a killing machine.”
He tried to make out what it said, but it was faded.
I put my hands on my hips. “It says, ‘I’ll be back’ which fits the occasion since you’re going around again. And in themovie when he said it, he sounded like this,” I lowered my voice and mimicked Arnold, “‘I’ll be back.’ It was a threat and totally badass.”
He pulled the shirt on, it fit him perfectly, a little tight on his arms. “What dost badass mean?”
“Like brave and threatening and frightening in the good way. Like you’re about to go fight this battle, you’re a badass.”
He nodded, slowly, “Yet someone might die in the battle, tis a possibility.” He put the letter from Max in the pocket of his sweatpants.
