“Last night you were asking me for a hand job, and now you’re afraid of me seeing you in a swimsuit! I swear, the next thing I know, you’re going to be daring me to have sex with you while I’m still stuck on G-rated things, and you’ll be raising a much bigger stink about my dares.”
This surprises a laugh out of me. I’m standing in the shower with my arms crossed tight over my chest, the water pouring over my shoulders, and it’s the most delicious sensation. I’d forgotten how good showers are. Not just the cleanness afterward, but the whole damn thing.
I get a look at Dex as he steps into the shower—muscle all the way down, and a thick cock that I really didn’t need to see. I turn pointedly away from him.
“What does that say about us?” I ask.
“Probably that I’m more interested in having a house than in kicking you out of it, and that you’re more likely to be gay than me.”
“Fuck you. You’re the one who went along with the dare last night.”
“I know.”
Dex reaches for a bar of soap and starts lathering up my shoulders, which is fucking wonderful. I want to be annoyed at him, so I stand stiffly and pretend I’m not enjoying this way too much, but now he’s digging his thumbs into the knot in my back and it’s impossible not to loosen up a bit.
He turns next to my hair, dousing the matted, shoulder-length mess with half the shampoo bottle and lathering it in vigorously, and I close my eyes and relish the feel of his fingers working across my scalp.
This is a completely new experience for me. No one has ever touched me like this except when it’s a lead-up to sex, and as much as I’ve always been obsessed with personal space and boundaries, this is way nicer than it has any right to be. Maybe letting someone into my life wouldn’t be a bad thing.
Next he’s washing my arms and my lower back, and when he kneels to scrub my legs, I’m tempted to shove my dirty-ass foot in his face.
A moment later he’s back to massaging a second round of shampoo into my hair, and even after all that washing, I can see a trail of brown running across the tiles and down the drain.
I reach for the soap to wash my chest while Dex is digging his knuckles into my lower back, and that’s when I realize he has a massive boner. This makes me weirdly gleeful.
“Who’s gay now?” I tease. “You’re so fucking turned on by this.”
“Stop staring at my dick, asshole.” Dex sounds embarrassed but not angry.
“What, are you wishing you could put your dick in my ass?”
“That’s gross.”
His cock doesn’t seem to agree. And I don’t know what’s wrong with me, but the idea that he’s hard because of me—because some part of his brain thinks I’m sexy—is fucking hot.
As soon as my mind goes in this direction, I’m out of that shower so fast you wouldn’t believe it, because there’s no way in hell I’m letting him see that my cock is stiffening as well.
Chapter 17
Dex
I can’t help myself—I watch Korren from the shower the whole time he’s drying off. I’m just generally thick and muscly, but Korren is sculpted in the most incredible ways. He’s got a lean stomach with a perfectly defined six-pack, and his biceps are huge.
And I have the answer to another question—he doesn’t have any tattoos.
“Stop watching me,” Korren says, his back to me. I can tell he’s smiling.
“I’m just wondering how the fuck you’re so ripped when you obviously can’t afford a gym membership.”
“I like exercising. It takes my mind off things. And you don’t need a gym to stay strong, dumbass.”
I turn off the shower and reach for my own towel, trying to ignore the way my dick is throbbing. If I hadn’t just given him the shower dare, I would’ve dared Korren to help me out.
I wrap my towel around my waist, my cock tenting the front, and reach for my clothes. It’s then that I notice something marring the smooth skin of Korren’s forearms.
I feel as though I’ve been hit over the head with a board. For a moment I can’t move, and then I’m crowding closer to him, all my protective instincts surging to the surface even though there’s no one I can protect Korren from except himself.
“Did you cut yourself?” I ask in a low growl.
