I shouldn’t go in there, should just walk away, but I can’t help myself. I move into the small space, flicking the water on, scented steam still lingering in the enclosed space.It smells of him, I think as I pull my clothes off and step under the spray.
How many times have I stood under these nozzles and remembered Rome on his knees before me, my cock down his throat?
Far too fucking many for my sanity.
I wish I had that recording. There were so many times I wanted to watch it. But maybe it was a blessing I didn’t. It would have consumed me.
The sight of him is almost enough to send me over the edge as it is.
My hand wraps around my hard cock as I grab my soap and start to scrub myself clean. Part of me wants Rome to turn around and step inside here with me, to force his lips onto mine, to drop to his knees once more.
But he doesn’t, so I shower quickly, refusing to linger just in case. And when I have the towel wrapped around my waist and I pull the shower door open, Rome proves me wrong. He’s standing right there, staring with his dark, heavy-lidded eyes.
Fuck.
It’s a shock, breath leaving my lungs.
His eyes slam into mine, and then he’s moving, his hand wrapping around my neck and walking me backward.
I go without a fight, my back hitting the cool tiles behind me, Rome crowding me, his fingers flexing against my skin. His breath feathers against my lips, and I place my hands flat on the wall behind me so as not to reach out and touch him.
His forehead meets mine for a moment, the air charged and heavy between us, before he steps back. His cheeks are flushed, his chest heaving.
Our eyes clash, and then he starts to sign, his movements shaky and frantic, but I see it all. I can understand exactly what he’s trying to tell me. Three years of almost constant exposure to ASL will do that.
The thing is, I don’t think he knows I know what he’s saying, because he’s being far too honest. Far too raw.
I don’t interrupt. I just keep my hands against the wall and let him expose himself to me. All of him.
Each and every fragile part.
CHAPTER TEN
ROME
Right now,I’m hanging on by a thread. Last night brought me right to the edge, but ass class with Dex pushed me over.
I’m free-falling and ready to land in his arms.
Or, at the very least, on his dick.
The towel around my waist is barely hanging on, my cock attempting to harden and lengthen, to knock that piece of fabric right off my hips. But I just manage to keep it together. I’m about to walk away and find my sanity elsewhere when Dex opens the shower door and I’m face-to-face with him.
And he’s as naked as I am.
Lust and anger surge through me in equal measure—lust because he clearly wants me, and anger because he looks even better than when I left, and he’s been haunting my thoughts ever since. My hand finds his neck, guiding him backward until the door clicks shut and his back meets the wall.
My fingers tighten, feeling the quick, nervous beat of his pulse beneath my palm. Fuck him for looking this good. Fuck him for being so impossibly hot.
My hand leaves his neck, and my forehead presses against his. I’m trying like hell not to kiss him, to get on my knees and beg.
I won’t do that. I can’t. I can’t let myself have him.
He’s with someone else. I’ve seen them more than once on my Instagram feed, smiling, looking into each other’s eyes like a couple in love. So who the fuck am I to get in between that. I can’t be that guy.
And yet here I am, unable to stay away.
I step back, and our gazes collide. His pupils are dilated, and I know his cock is as hard as mine. They’re both covered by towels, but that doesn’t matter. The sexual energy between us is electric.
