“Um, yeah.”
“I’m good.I don’t want to keep these,” Reid replies, his voice hoarse.“Maybe Summer’s clothes though.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” I promise, briefly squeezing Malia’s hand as I pass her.
The floorboards creak under our weight as I guide him up the stairs by his hand.The vintage lamps hung on the walls make a humming sound as we pass them to get to my room.Inside, I flick on the lamp beside the door.I drop his bag near the dresser and close the door behind him.
“Come on,” I whisper.
“W-what?”
“You need a shower,” I tell him, pulling him into the bathroom.I switch on the shower, giving it time to heat up before checking the other two doors are locked.
He’s still standing in the middle of the room, but thankfully he hasn’t dissociated.Instead, he’s highly fixated on what I am doing.I take three steps toward him, and then grip the edge of his T-shirt, slowly sliding it up his body.
“Arms up,” I quietly demand.I throw the blood-stained T-shirt into the corner, making a mental note to hide it before Makayla wakes up so it doesn’t freak her out.His shorts drop to his feet when I untie the string and push them over his hips.“You’ll need to do your shoes.”
I pull my blood-soaked top up and throw it in the same pile as Reid’s.My own shorts and underwear follow, along with my sandals.Once we are both naked, I pull him into the shower, letting the warm water slide over us.
“Don’t let your hand get wet,” I remind him.
His arm comes around me, his hand on my lower back as he tugs me close, until my body is flush with his.“Thank you,” he gruffly remarks.
I clean his hair, and the stale stench of the horrific day soaking his flesh.Before I can move to the blood staining his legs, he has the shampoo and is squirting it in my hair.I inwardly moan as his fingers lather the suds into my hair.It’s just as relaxing when he runs the conditioner through the ends of my hair.I don’t normally wash my hair twice in a day, but I feel like I need to wash the day away.
Once he’s done, I grab the loofah and soap and get to my knees.I avoided this part until last because it hurts to look at.I gently wash the blood away, feeling tears sting my eyes when I see the bruises below his knees and shins.The blood had covered most of them, along with his tattoos.It reminds me that today, it could have been him standing on that trapped door.It could have been him lying in that hospital bed.
I feel like I don’t have the right to feel this way.We aren’t even a couple.I only agreed to more this morning.Yet the burning in my chest is something most people only feel after knowing someone for years, having built a connection over a long period of time.We have a connection, one I believe is solid, and yet doubt creeps about whether it’s real.It could be fear because of how much I feel for him.
I make sure to pay attention to the backs of his legs, not wanting to miss any spots.I don’t want him to wake up and be reminded so harshly about what happened.Mostly, I’m biding my time, hoping the tears I’m holding back don’t fall.His fingers brush through my hair, and I glance up, noticing he’s semi hard.
There’s nothing sexual in his gaze.No yearning.No lust.There is gratitude.A tenderness that has my hands shaking.A softness in his gaze that has my pulse racing.
Behind all that, there’s an air of despondency he’s struggling to hide.My heart feels like it’s going to explode.
God, this man.This gorgeous fucking man.
I slide my hands up his thighs, smirking when his dick twitches.His pupils dilate when I grab the base of his dick in my hand.Fully hard now, I kiss the tip of his dick, my gaze still on his.
His thumb runs over my lips then presses down on my chin as I open my mouth.No words are shared.There’s no dirty talk or a promise of what will happen.I take him in my mouth, letting him hit the back of my throat.He groans when I pull back, flicking my tongue over the tip before sucking him deeper, swallowing around the tip of his dick, knowing guys love the sensation.He grips the back of my head gently as my head bobs up and down as I fuck him with my mouth.One hand is at the base of his dick, stroking him, whilst the other tugs at his ball sack.
His breaths are coming faster, and the grip he has in my hair tightens.He even begins to thrust into my mouth.I so badly want to touch myself, but this isn’t about me.This is about him.
His thighs clench.“Sunshine, I’m gonna—”
I suck him harder, using my tongue and the saliva that has built up to bring him closer to the edge.He growls low in his throat, and he presses me into his crotch as he shoots his load into my mouth.My eyes water as I swallow it down, my movements slowing.
My jaw aches when I slide my mouth off his dick.I lower my head, wiping the drool and cum that has run down my chin that I didn’t manage to swallow.I can feel he’s less tense, less on edge, as I get to my feet.
He’s still panting heavily when I switch the shower off.“Let’s get dry.”
He stops me from leaving.“We aren’t done,” he hoarsely remarks.
“I didn’t do that to start something.That was for you,” I reply honestly, feeling my cheeks heat.I reach for his good hand and tug him out.I pass him a towel before grabbing my own.I’ve barely got it secured around my chest when he gently pushes me against the sink.
My chest rises and falls at his expression.His eyes run over my face, searching, seeking, trying to find answers so he doesn’t need to ask them.I can see the internal war he’s having, and I bet a part of him wants to flee because he doesn’t understand what is going on in his mind.My heart aches for him.Not out of pity.It’s out of a need to help him.His hand grips the towel at my hip.I don’t think I’ve ever seen him struggle to find words.He has always been so confident and outspoken.
I run my hand up his chest.I don’t need words.I just need him to be okay.“Let’s go to bed.”
