The tile is cold under my feet. The mirror shows a man who looks steadier than he feels.
I turn the shower on.
Water pounds over my shoulders, down my back. I brace one hand against the wall and let my head drop forward.
This is a mistake.
She’s way younger. Fresh out of hell.
You’re forty. You’ve seen war. You’ve buried people.
She trusts you.
You kissed her.
The memory replays anyway.
Her mouth warm. Hesitant. Real.
The water cascades over me, hot and insistent, but it does nothing to dull the ache in my gut.
My cock throbs, hard and demanding after years of neglect. I shouldn’t indulge this, not with Carly just beyond the wall, still healing. I deal with it now so I don’t cross a line with her later.
I wrap my hand around the base of my cock, fingers curling tight. The slide of skin over rigid length sends a jolt through me. I stroke upward slowly, feeling it pulse in my grip, the heat building as water streams down my back.
My thoughts turn to Carly. Her blonde hair fanned on the pillow, blue eyes soft in trust, curvy body nestled close. I imagine her thigh over mine again, her warmth pressing in. The vision tightens my hold; I pump steadily, thumb brushing the sensitive tip where slickness beads.
Breath quickens, mingling with steam. I lean against the tile, cool against my heated skin, hips shifting into each motion. Pressure coils low, intense. Her lips part in my mind, inviting.
It's a betrayal of my role as protector, but the pull is fierce. My pace quickens, fist gliding faster until release surges. Sharp waves of pleasure pulsing from my core, spilling hot over myfingers while saying her name. I steady against the wall, chest heaving as it fades.
Guilt stirs, but so does resolve. I rinse clean, the water washing away the physical trace.
I dry off, pull on jeans, tug a shirt over my head, and step out of the bathroom.
The heat fades behind me.
I glance toward the bedroom.
The bed is empty.
Every muscle in my body locks.
I move fast toward the living room.
She’s on the couch, blanket wrapped tight around her, knees pulled up. Her head turns when she hears me.
Her eyes find mine.
Relief hits her face first.
Then something else.
“You’re up,” I say.
“I heard the shower,” she replies. “I thought you left.”
Something tightens in my chest.
