I think, again, how lucky our daughter already is.
Even without a name.
31
Resurrection
Geoff
The bathroom is thickwith steam by the time I step under the shower.
Heat first. Then sound. Water hammering my shoulders, my back, loosening muscles that still think they’re about to be tackled. I brace my hands against the tiles and let my head drop, eyes closing as the spray hits my face.
This is meant to be neutral.
It isn’t.
Because the moment my eyes shut, she’s there.
Christa. Not guarded. Not joking. This morning’s Christa. Warm skin under my hands. Her breath hitching. The way she’d looked at me like asking wasn’t weakness, like wanting was allowed.
She’s been coming to my bedroom almost every night in the last week and every time is like the first time again.
My stomach tightens.
And then my body betrays months of sulking silence.
And not with a twitch. Not with a maybe.
A full, undeniable response.
I open one eye and look down, half-expecting it to disappear out of spite.
It doesn’t.
It’s there. Hard. Heavy. Very much awake.
A laugh punches out of me, rough and startled. “You’re joking,” I mutter.
I wrap my hand around my cock before I can overthink it. Just to check. Just to confirm I’m not imagining things.
I’m not.
The sensation is sharp and familiar all at once, pressure and heat and that low, coiled pull that’s been missing for too long. My breath stutters as I stroke slowly, feeling the weight of it, the way it thickens in my grip, pre-cum slicking my palm almost immediately.
“Fuck,” I breathe.
Images of her flash through my head in fragments. Her mouth open. Her back arching. The sound she made when I touched her just right. When she came apart under my tongue, under my fingers, trusting me completely.
That’s what does it.
My strokes grow firmer, faster, the water pounding in time as I imagine her again, wet and open and begging, my name torn from her throat like she needs it to breathe. The thought of her coming undone because of me sends a jolt straight through my spine, my hips rocking forward into my hand.
I brace my free palm against the wall as sensation coils tighter, hotter. My body finally remembering what it’s meant to do. Who it’s meant to do it for.
Release hits hard and sudden, a sharp groan tearing out of me as cum spills over my knuckles, lost immediatelyunder the spray. My forehead drops to the tile as my body shudders through it, pulse racing, breath wrecked.
For a moment, there’s nothing but water and steam and the thud of my heart.
