Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 76006 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 380(@200wpm)___ 304(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76006 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 380(@200wpm)___ 304(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
“Do they need towels?” Emerson asked.
“We’ve got it covered,” Aunt Janice said. “I’ll have them back sometime after dinner.”
He closed the door behind them, then watched them load in the car and drive off.
“What the hell just happened?” he asked when he felt Rhys’s heat behind him.
“Looks like you have the afternoon free,” he said, sounding amused.
“Not sure I’ll know what to do with myself.”
“I’ve got some ideas,” Rhys replied in a lascivious tone that made Emerson’s skin heat. “But first, a shower.”
Then he padded toward the master bedroom, and Emerson heard the shower turn on. Did they really have the whole house to themselves again?
Emerson paced the length of the living room until he made up his mind. He needed to stop thinking through every detail painstakingly and just go with what felt good for a change.
Still, he was a fucking ball of nervous energy when he ditched his clothes on the bathroom floor and hesitantly stepped inside the shower. A timid smile graced Rhys’s lips, and Emerson breathed out in relief even as he shivered. Was this really happening? He trembled as Rhys’s gaze roamed greedily over his bare skin, and his own shaft swelled in response. Fuck, his body reacted of its own accord when he was around Rhys.
He didn’t know how he’d be able to return to normal if Rhys didn’t want him anymore.
Stop overthinking and just feel.
Besides, Emerson had been in this scenario with Rhys before. But whereas last time he made certain not to stare at his body out of sheer resolve, he now couldn’t help looking his fill. Rhys’s hair was dripping wet as his fingers gripped a tube of bodywash, the vanilla scent filling the enclosed space. Emerson’s gaze slid lazily down his torso to the dark thatch of hair surrounding his pretty cock, which was growing increasingly stiffer.
Pretty? He had never thought of another man’s dick in quite that way. But now he wondered how it tasted and smelled. He’d be woefully inept at the task of giving head, but fuck, he wanted to try, if only to bring Rhys pleasure and watch him lose control.
Rhys grasped his wrist and urged him under the warm spray. Emerson sighed as the water cascaded over his head and down his torso. Squirting more bodywash in his hand, Rhys began soaping Emerson’s shoulders and neck much like Emerson had done for Rhys after his accident.
It was on the tip of his tongue to protest until Rhys gave him a stern look. “Wanna take care of you for a change.”
Emerson tried not to squirm as Rhys took exceedingly gentle care scrubbing the front of him, from his chest to his groin, paying special attention to his nipples, which he hadn’t realized were so sensitive. Rhys sliding his knuckles across the unruly patch at his groin felt so intimate that Emerson moaned. Rhys watched him closely as he forked his fingers through the wiry hair, and Emerson’s knees nearly buckled.
When Rhys sweetly pecked his shoulder, then lifted Emerson’s hand to kiss his palm, Emerson’s chest felt too tight. Throat thick, he struggled to speak as he tenderly cupped Rhys’s cheek, too many emotions hanging from his lips. Rhys’s eyes softened as he nuzzled his palm.
Jesus. He didn’t know how much more he could take.
Rhys turned his attention to soaping Emerson’s shaft and scrotum, and Emerson nearly spurted all over Rhys’s wrist. It was a relief to turn toward the wall, and he took deep, gulping breaths to get his pulse under control.
Rhys ran soapy hands down his back to his ass, and Emerson clenched his teeth as Rhys’s fingertips brushed between his cheeks. “This okay?” Rhys murmured into the back of his neck.
He pressed his forehead to the cool tile as he fought the urge to push against his hand. No one had ever touched that most private area, but fuck if it didn’t make his cock leak. He hummed. “Feels good. Wanna touch you too.”
“Soon.” Once that torment was over, Rhys reached for the shampoo bottle to wash his hair with such tenderness, Emerson sighed and shut his eyes, reveling in being cared for by the man who held his heart in the palm of his hand.
But they were still in that gray area. Rhys had come to him last night, and it had happened exactly as he’d hoped—by acting on his own natural urges for Emerson.
Rhys twisted the shower handle and reached for a towel. He stepped out first, then held out a towel for Emerson, thankfully allowing him to dry himself off. He wasn’t sure he could handle any more fondling. He was stiff as a board, and Rhys wasn’t much better.
He followed behind Rhys to his bedroom, where he couldn’t hold off any longer. He pulled Rhys into an embrace and delivered a scorching kiss.