Page 31

She smiled at me, is the thing, apparently. Her smiles should mean nothing to me. None of it should matter. We’re only together right now because of shitty weather and shitty travel arrangements, and once we get to where we’re going and this little trip home is over, we won’t see each other again. The way it’s supposed to be.

I strip out of my clothes and turn the shower on, letting it run cold, like that’s going to help purge the memories out of my head.

It doesn’t work, and I just stand there, wet and shivering and pissed off. All these old memories of the two of us start surfacing in my head, and I think about all the times Brynn has smiled at me in our lives.

They went from tentative and unsure to bright and sunny. There were times when I would find her hard at work writing something, lost to the world, and then as soon as she’d spot me, her face would bloom into something beautiful and happy.

It always made me feel good. Like I was important enough that she couldn’t help but smile to see me.

Even when she was stressed or frustrated, I could manage to make her smile. I’d kiss her or tease her or take her to bed, and I’d coax smiles from her beautiful face.

Thinking about her sated and spent on the bed, smiling up at me, is a mistake. A big one. I can feel my body reacting to the memory, my cock stirring to life under the cold water.

If it’s not going to help, then I’m not going to suffer.

Grumbling under my breath, I switch the water to warm and only hold out for a handful of minutes before I give in and take myself in hand.

Maybe all I need is to just take the edge off. It’s been a long time since I’ve had sex, which makes this even more fucking embarrassing. I’ve been basically celibate for years, and it hasn’t been all that hard to deal with. Even working with beautiful women on sets, sitting next to models at events, whatever, none of that was enough to make me this hard this fast.

Now apparently all I have to do is think about Brynn smiling her post orgasm smile, and it’s enough to have me rock hard and ready to pop.

Fucking stupid.

But I don’t fight it. I wrap my hand around my cock and give it a slow stroke from base to tip. Heat shudders through me at my own touch, and I bite down on my lip to hold back the groan that wants to spill out.

It feels good immediately, and I find myself bucking into my hand, chasing more of the sensation. Hot water washes over me, and I groan softly, squeezing myself just a little tighter.

Brynn was so tight the first time we had sex. I was worried about hurting her, but she kept telling me she wanted it, kept urging me to keep going and not stop, so I gave her what she wanted. What we both wanted.

It’s hard not to think about that now, when I’m fucking into my own fist. About the way she moaned for me, the way she arched under me, her hair spread out on the pillows, her lips bitten and red. Her skin flushed so fucking beautifully as she stared up at me, trusting me. Wanting me.

“Fuck,” I hiss under my breath. A stab of heat gets me right at my core, and I work my hand over my cock faster. Fluid beads at the tip, and I drag my palm over it, using it to slick my palm and make this feel even better.

My eyes flutter closed, and I tip my head back, harsh breaths barely muted by the crash of the shower water.

It feels fucking good.

I don’t even do this as often as I could. For someone who lives alone and has enough free time these days, I could be jacking off all day if I wanted, but something always holds me back. Maybe I forgot how good it can feel to just let go and turn off the ugly thoughts about it all.

My knees quiver from the rush of arousal, and I reach out blindly, trying to find the shower wall or the inset shelf to hold on to so I don’t bust my ass in here. My cock pulses in my other hand, and I can tell I’m getting close. The familiar tingle is there, sending waves of need crashing through me.

And then my free hand smacks into the toiletries lined up on the shower shelf and sends those crashing as well.

They fall to the shower floor with a loud clatter, and I have enough time to curse under my breath before someone starts pounding at the bathroom door.

“Are you dead in there?” Brynn demands, muffled behind the door and under the sound of the shower. “Ares?”

Before I can catch my breath enough to answer her, the door bursts open and she comes rushing in.

Her eyes are wide with concern as she looks me over. She takes in my flushed face and the pile of toiletries on the wet shower floor, and then her eyes travel back up my body, going even wider when she sees me standing there with my hand wrapped around my flushed and leaking cock.

“Oh my god,” she exhales in a rush. “Oh my—I thought you fell in the shower or something.”

She doesn’t drag her eyes away from the sight, even though her cheeks are going pink the longer she stands there.

“I didn’t,” I manage to bite back. My voice sounds wrecked, and I know Brynn can tell.

“Yeah, I can see that. I mean… yeah. I’m going to…”