I can’t hold back a groan, so I don’t. Instead, I sink into whatever strange blip of reality that’s led us here to this moment of temporary insanity. Having Robbie’s big hands on my naked, wet body is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to let my fears prevent me from enjoying it.
The freak-out can wait until later. For now, I’m content to feel his big hands on me while he talks about firefighters in the locker room shower.
“It’s not like I’d think ‘Bob’s hotter than Dale’ or ‘Boy, I’d like to touch that ass.’ Nothing that obvious. And… let’s be honest, Amesie. You’ve seen the guys we work with. That locker room’s not spank bank material.”
I laugh. “True.”
“But I specifically remember noticing things about you. Your abs. The line of hair you’ve got right here and how… how masculine it is.” He runs a soapy finger over my thick happy trail, and I shiver. My dick starts to feel heavy, even though I just got off a few minutes ago. “But also other stuff. Like how your shoulders bunch up when you’re drying off and how…safeit makes me feel? Is that weird?”He clears his throat, clearly uncomfortable despite the shared orgasms and the fact that we’re naked and soaping each other up. “Also your, uh… your armpits. They’re really hairy, and… I think I thought I was just jealous because I’m not built like that, but now I… I realize it’s because they’re hot.” His eyes meet mine, and he bites his lip. “I’m being dumb, right?”
He’s so freakingcute.
I talk a good game, but there hasn’t been a moment in sixteen years when my heart hasn’t been a bubbly pot of melty goo for this man. Yet somehow, anytime he gets all earnest like this, I manage to melt a little more.
Which, yes, is scary as fuck.
I turn and face him, taking some of the soapy suds off my own skin and rubbing them into his chest, if only so I can cop a cheap feel of his pecs and hardened nipples.
It’s just washing. The job we came here to do.
“I notice those things too, Rob. But when you’re gay and everyone knows you’re gay, it’s different. I try not to be obvious so I don’t make people uncomfortable. Especiallyyou.” The last words come out a little sharper than I intended.
Robbie nods, thoughtful and a little chastened, and I want to kick myself for ruining the moment. But if it’s ruined, Robbie doesn’t seem to notice.
He smiles at me again. “I counted your freckles once.”
My hands still on the hard planes of his obliques. “You… what?”
“Summer after senior year. We were both working for your dad at the lumberyard, and we were probies at the station too, so we were tired as fuck, remember? You fell asleep out at the lake on your stomach?—”
I move my fingers over the ridges of his abdomen, sneaking a long peek at the heavy cock hanging between his thighs. For once, I don’t need to glance away. “I donotremember this,” I say, trying desperately to maintain a few working brain cells so I can stay in the conversation with him.
“Why would you, I guess?” He shrugs, and the water falls in a cascade around us. “It was like a thousand other times. Exceptthistime, while you were sleeping on your stomach, I counted the freckles on your back. Forty-three,” he says proudly, though his ears have gone red.
“Now,thatis…” I shake my head and stare at him.
“Weird?” he supplies. “Yeah.” He twirls one finger, telling me to turn around, and I see him reach for the shampoo.
Weirdwasn’t the word I was going to say, but I don’t correct him. The things I might have said, likeadorable, andbreathtaking, andmind-blowing, are all way too revealing.
“It’s probably a good thing you never told me,” I say as he scrubs my hair gently. “I would’ve been all over you. More than I already was. Woulda sent you running.”
“Maybe,” he says quietly. “Or not. I don’t know.” His broad palm traces down my back, from my nape to the very top of my ass crack, then lingers. I have to resist the urge to get up on my tiptoes to encourage him to explore lower. “I’m just so fucking glad I’m here now.”
I am too.
Of course I am.
Because he’s my best friend, and I want him to know all the things about himself.
And because I’m living the dream. For as long—orshort—a time as it lasts.
Robbie carefully draws me against him, my wet back to his chest, and kisses my neck.
Little-known fact: I am a slut for neck kisses. Nipples,meh. Armpits,eh. But my neck is one giant, exposed erogenous zone that’s spent nearly thirty years just hanging out, waiting for someone to take their time—and their tongue—and make me lose my mind. It’s rare that anyone pays much attention because that’s not how hookups work.
But Robbie… he’s got nothing but time. And so fucking much attention.
He starts just below my ear, his lips so soft and hot they brand my skin. Each open-mouthed kiss lingers, every warm puff of his breath sends a jolt down my spine. Then he drags his mouth lower, to the sensitive dip where my neck meets my shoulder, his teeth just grazing. Just teasing. My skin prickles with goose bumps everywhere, and I can feel my pulse thrumming under his lips and in my dick.
