Chapter Twenty-Five
Kris
Someone’s hand is cupping my junk.
Kris’ mind blearily recognised that the person holding him had a larger, much more powerful build and also had him pinned against them with an arm across his chest. His mind raced to play catch up as his fog from sleep cleared from his brain.
Ishmael, his mind supplied. He was in bed with Ishmael. He heard a low chuckle. “You’re so cute when you first wake up.” Ishmael’s hand caressed his semi-erect cock.
“I’ve got to pee,” Kris said, trying to convey the sense of urgency he felt. He was rewarded by Ishmael releasing him and rolling onto his back.
“Go on then. We have less than an hour before we go, so don’t dawdle.”
Kris leapt from the bed. “An hour to shower and eat and everything?”
“For both of us to do so,” Ishmael corrected.
Shit. Shit. Shit.Now was so not the time for his bladder to decide it was feeling shy. Ishmael entered the bathroom and moved around him. Kris shifted. Ishmael’s presence wasn’t helping. In fact, the scent of his warm skin with the faint traces of last night’s night’s cologne was making it even more awkward. Ishmael turned on the shower then glanced over his shoulder, his eyes dancing with amusement as if he understood something about Kris’ discomfiture that he didn’t.
“When you’re finally done, come join me in the shower.” Ishmael climbed in and began washing his hair. Kris closed his eyes from the vision of the water tracing down Ishmael’s alabaster skin. A breath later, he was relieved when his bladder decided to co-operate. He shook his cock dry and climbed in behind Ishmael.
“It’s hard to wash when you stand there with both hands over your dick like that,” Ishmael observed as he turned around to face him, reaching for the bottle of body wash. He squirted some into his hands before replacing it on the shelf. “Guess I’ll have to do it for you,” he said, running his hands over Kris’ arms.
“No! I’ve got it!” Kris protested, twisting away. He froze when he head Ishmael’s rumble of warning.Fucking hell. That was a legit growl.He snatched the scrubby puff and body wash from the shelf and twisted back around to present to Ishmael. “See? This’d be better, right?”
The only response was taking it from him, adding the gel onto the puff and snicking the lid back closed. He presented the bottle to Kris, to put back.
“Now stay turned around,” Ishmael ordered. Kris did as he was told.
Don’t make him mad. He’s just going to wash your back. No time for anything weird, anyways. Less than an hour to get ready to go.
Ishmael began to wash his neck and shoulders. “Try to relax,” Ishmael said softly into his ear. “Just enjoy the pampering.”
Kris closed his eyes, willing each muscle group one by one to loosen. The feeling of having his back and shoulders washed actually did feel nice, he decided. He languidly held out his arms when asked, then turned back around when bidden. Ishmael gently washed his torso, stopping at his waist.
“Here, you can do the rest,” he said.
Kris took the pouf from him, filled with surprise.
“What?” Ishmael said. “You thought I would start fondling your ass and balls now? Oh, my sweetling, if I wanted to have you under my hands, we’d need far more time than this.” Ishmael picked up the body wash and a second shower pouf from the shelf and made use of them to wash himself in a far speedier manner than he had Kris. “Go on, finish up,” he urged. “We’re against the clock.”
He stepped out and towelled himself off. After wrapping a towel around his waist, he walked over to the sink. Kris watched as he plugged in a shaver. He turned his attention back to his own grooming in order to wash his hair. Then, he’d also have to shave and style his hair and dress. He squashed down his questions as to why they were in a hurry and where they were going.
I’ll find out soon enough. Best to just get ready for the day and not give him cause to decide he needs to punish me again.
Stepping out of the shower, he couldn’t help but steal a look at Ishmael.
Like that, he doesn’t seem so dangerous. And he can be so genuinely nice. It’d be harder to hate him and Bob if they weren’t so nice most of the time. Well, nice-ish, anyways. Now, Crichton, he thought as he dried himself off, Crichton is just scary all the damned time.
Ishmael turned off his shaver and began to clean it. “Your turn,” he said, putting it away while taking out the shaver he’d gotten Kris. It was identical to his own except for the neat label on the end with gold script, proclaiming it to be Kris’. “I’ll leave you to it,” he said, leaving the bathroom.
After shaving, Kris had no further clues about what the day was to bring. The clothes Ishmael laid out for him were smart casual and comfortable, while Ishmael was putting on another sharp looking suit. It wasn’t until Ishmael left the bedroom and moments later answered the door, that he had any inkling at all.
“The Tesla is waiting for you as requested. Bert and Josh will be in the car behind, they’ve requisitioned the BMW for the excursion,” Kris heard Bob say as he walked into the living room.
“We’re going out?” he asked.
Ishmael turned and lavished him with a smile. “Yes. Breakfast out, then a trip to Chinatown as promised. I know I said Sunday, but thought it would be a nice surprise for today.”
