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His suspicious look tells me he doesn’t believe for a second that there’s nothing behind my answer, but he turns anyway. I work the soap over his shoulders and down his back, taking my time as my thumbs move along the muscles beside his spine. His head tips forward, and a low groan slips from him when I press a little harder.

“That feels fucking amazing.”

I keep going, learning how his body responds beneath my hands without asking anything from him in return. I wash his back and arms, then turn him so I can do the rest, taking my time because I like touching him and the easy way he lets me.

By the time the soap is gone, Nash has his arms around my neck again. He pulls me down to his mouth, and the slow kiss doesn’t stay slow for long. His tongue slides against mine as I guide him backward, and when his shoulders meet the cool tile, he sucks in a breath before biting my lower lip in retaliation. I tighten my hands around his hips and press closer until our cocks slide together between us.

Nash reaches down and wraps his hand around both of us. The first stroke pulls a groan from me, and he does it again, his fist slick with water as he works us together. I grip his ass and pull him tighter against me, thrusting into his hand while his cock moves against mine.

“Fuck, Daddy.” He moans against my mouth before kissing me again. “Feels so good.”

His fist moves faster, and I fuck into his grip while he matches the movement. The heat of his body, the tight slide of his hand and the sounds he makes against my mouth strip away the last of my control. I kiss him until neither of us has enough breath left for it, then drag my mouth along his jaw while his fingers tighten around our cocks.

“I’m gonna cum.” His voice breaks on the last word, and I feel his body tighten against mine as he comes over his hand and my stomach. The sight of him losing himself against me is enough to send me over with him. I thrust once more into his fist before my own orgasm hits, my hands locking around his ass while I hold him against me.

For a while, neither of us bothers moving. Nash keeps his arms around my neck while I hold him around the waist, both of us breathing hard as the water washes away the mess between us. I reach behind him and turn it off only when it starts cooling, then brush the wet curls from his forehead.

“Mine.” I press my mouth to his forehead before drawing back enough to see him. “You’re mine.”

His smile comes easily now, without any of the uncertainty he had earlier tonight, and he nods.

I cup his jaw and run my thumb along his cheek. “Say it.”

“I’m yours, Daddy.”

I kiss him again, slower this time, letting myself enjoy the weight of his arms around my neck before reaching for a towel and wrapping it around his shoulders.

Getting ready for bed takes longer than usual. Nash brushes his teeth while I shave, watching me in the mirror between attempts to inspect everything on my side of the counter. When I catch him reaching for one of the bottles, he gives me an innocent look that doesn’t fool me for a second.

He grins around his toothbrush, and I turn back to the mirror before he sees how much I enjoy having him here. His clothes are scattered across my floor, his toothbrush sits beside mine, and there’s a damp towel lying across the counter that I move to the rack while he watches without the slightest hint of apology. My bathroom has looked essentially the same for years, yet within an hour Nash has left evidence of himself everywhere.

I like it.

When we finally get into bed, I pull him back against my chest and wrap an arm around his waist. Nash shifts around until he finds a comfortable position, then places his hand over mine where it rests against his stomach. His body is warm against me, his hair still slightly damp when I press my mouth to it.

“You really sleep like this?” he asks, his voice already rough with exhaustion.

“With you.”

His laugh is quiet, and I feel it against my chest. A few minutes later, his breathing changes, his hand going loose over mine as sleep takes him. I stay awake a little longer with my arm around him, aware of how different the room feels with another person in my bed. I spent years making sure I never needed anyone here, and now I’m holding Nash closer instead of wishing for the space back.

Sometime during the night, he turns over and apparently decides I’m a mattress. When I wake, he’s sprawled halfway across me with one arm over my chest and a leg hooked across mine. His face is relaxed against my shoulder, several curls falling across his forehead, and I have no desire to move him. I brush the hair back carefully. Nash makes a quiet sound and shifts closer before his eyes slowly open.

“Morning.” Nash’s voice is rough with sleep as he looks up at me. “How long have you been watching me, you creeper?”

“Long enough to discover you take up most of the bed.”

“You’re six-five. You have plenty left.” He stretches, raising his arms above his head and arching against me in a way that immediately pulls my attention lower. The lean muscle across his stomach tightens with the movement, and when I roll over him, he gives me a sleepy smile and slides both hands around my back.

“Your body is incredible.”

“Yoga and Pilates.” His fingers move lazily over my skin. “Some of us prefer being bendy instead of built like a brick wall.”

I lower my mouth toward his, already thinking of several ways I could make use of that flexibility, when my phone rings on the nightstand.

Nash drops his head against the pillow with a groan. “Your family has the worst fucking timing.”

Ronan’s name is on the screen. I answer, and he starts talking before I can say anything. “I traced the IP address from the email. It came from the Greenwood Apartments, unit 1025. The lease is held by an offshore company, and Colton is working on the ownership.”