Chapter 16 #2
And even though my cock grows harder, I had enough years being led around by my baser instincts to have gotten better control over them.
So, I tell myself that in spite of my body’s response, I haven’t actually done anything wrong yet.
I can walk this back. “We can’t,” I say with the wisps of resistance that I can muster, like I’m pulling them back down into a form that’s solid enough to get me through this.
“I won’t tell anyone, if that’s what you’re worried about,” he says convincingly, his eyes not leaving mine.
And I know that I can trust him. But can I trust myself?
A kiss wouldn’t be the end of the world, I reason.
Because I’m a stupid, stupid man. Just a kiss in a whirlpool with an incredibly hot person who’s begging me for it.
We can get it out of our systems and then I won’t have to keep wondering what his beard will feel like against my cheeks or how soft his mouth is.
I’m clinging to my last shreds of sanity–and control–like a buoy in the ocean. “I didn’t even know that you were into men. Not that you needed to come out to me, too, when I told you about myself.”
He hits me with a sheepish smile that makes my insides go a little weak. His next words don’t help the teetering feeling that’s making me unbalanced, either. “I didn’t know that I was when you told me. It’s sort of a new revelation.”
Oh. Oh. The realization hits me like a punch. I’m like his… awakening or whatever you want to call it. And I shouldn’t find that nearly as endearing–or sexy–as I do. A thrill shoots down my spine at the idea that he’s been thinking about me. Fantasizing about me, even.
“So, that’s why you’ve been so weird lately?” I ask, genuinely curious.
“I guess I just decided… hey, I already don’t have enough going on in my life. Why not make things even more complicated and start lusting after my physical therapist?”
A smile plays on my lips, even if I shouldn’t be indulging this line of conversation. “Lusting?”
He gives me a once-over that is decidedly lustful, and I’m about a second away from pulling him against me and wrapping my legs around his thick torso when he says, “I’m not sure what else you’d call it. I can’t stop thinking about you.”
My stomach bottoms out. There’s a sweetness but also a danger in his raw honesty, like he hasn’t even considered playing any type of game. Though, he’s already doing a pretty good job with that over the last few weeks because of his own uncertainty.
“And I know that you’re attracted to me, too,” he adds when I don’t say anything. “You told me.” All the while, his hands are still exploring. Touching.
I laugh, exasperated. “I told you that when I thought you were a homophobe who was worried that I was going to try and cop a feel during one of our sessions.”
“What if I want to be the one who cops a feel?” he asks, flattening his palms against my chest before running his hands along my shoulders.
It feels so goddamn good which is why I feel like I should get a medal when I push out, “I’m already letting you do more than I should. A lot more, in fact.”
One of his hands wraps around where my shoulder meets my neck, and he starts to stroke along my jaw with one of his long fingers.
I sigh, knowing that if I was really going to put a stop to this, it should have happened a while ago.
Because the truth is that I want it just as much as he does.
Maybe I have more experience and more control, but it doesn’t change the fact that my blood is pumping through my body like I’m running a race. “One kiss.”
Even though he’s all muscle, his skin is soft against my cheek.
I’m doing a public service, I tell myself when he shifts closer.
My legs open so that he can slot between them, even though I know he’d still be able to reach me if I didn’t.
But I want this to be good for him, too.
His first kiss with a guy. God knows what would happen to him if he shows up at a gay club with a face like that and a body that’s just begging to be touched. And licked. And sucked.
I blow out a breath against his cheek. He stares at me for a beat, taking me in, before he closes his eyes and presses his lips against mine. Softly. Tentatively. Searchingly.
My arms have decided that they’re not obeying me right now, and instead, they snake around his hips, both of us light in the water. It’s good that we can’t get too much friction or else this kiss could really take on a life of its own.
Asher’s an incredible kisser. His beard is just long enough that it’s gentle against my cheek, and I instinctively nuzzle my face in closer.
He explores my lips like he’s mapping them to remember before I feel his tongue push gently inward, asking for permission.
I sigh indulgently, knowing that I can’t fight this.
I’ve already crossed a line, and I’d do it again.
“You’re going to make someone incredibly happy one day,” I murmur when his mouth shifts over to my neck and he starts sucking gently.
“Why can’t I make you happy right now?” he asks before nipping at me with his teeth.
I groan, the weight of his words washing over me. But I can’t let this go any further. I just can’t. It wouldn’t be right–especially not for him.
“Asher, you got your kiss. One kiss. That was what we agreed on,” I plead as he keeps alternating between nips and kisses against my hot skin. I don’t know if I’m trying to convince him or myself.
He shifts his legs up so that his knees are resting on the seat in the whirlpool, straddling me.
It brings our crotches closer together. The way he’s hovering on top of me is so encompassing, and I want to get lost in the feeling.
When his hardened cock brushes against mine through both of our shorts, he lets out an exultant groan and whispers, “Fuck, Wyatt.”
I don’t think that he’s ever called me by my first name before, and it does something to me.
I have to ball my hands into fists to stop myself from drawing my fingers across his abs, just to see them clench from my touch.
We could have so much fun together. The chemistry is off the charts, but the stakes are just too high.
It’s not until he tries to run his hand over my shorts, just above my cock, that I reach out and grab his wrist, all the things that I have to lose flashing through my mind. “Asher, we can’t,” I warn.
“But you want this?” he asks. He’s stronger than me, but he stays still, heeding my anxious words.
“It’s not about what I want. It’s about the fact that we aren’t allowed to be doing this.”
Just when I think that he’s finally listening to me–really hearing me–he shifts down so that the back of his thighs press against the tops of mine.
With the way that he’s bracketing me against the back of the bench, there’s nowhere for my cock to go except to strain against his.
I’m not in control of my body as my hips jerk upward, trying to find friction.
“In what world should we not be doing this?” he groans indulgently and I wonder if I could come in my shorts like some horny teenager.
“Asher, your leg. You shouldn’t be in this position.
” The words come from somewhere in my professional mind–a place that has not been at the forefront of my thinking until this moment.
And really, it’s about fifty-fifty given that we’re in the water and he’s not putting nearly as much weight on it as he would on land, but it’s still a deep bend that’s a bit beyond where we’ve gotten with his recovery.
This does actually get his attention, and he slides off of me and back into the water. I ache from how much I miss the brief grinding that happened, but I keep telling myself that it’s for the best.
Plus, the idea of spending the rest of the night cleaning out the whirlpool after I come all over it isn’t an enticing proposition. Even though the act itself would be hot as fuck.
No. I have got to stop thinking like this.
“Would you mind giving me a ride home?” he asks, biting his lip. At least he isn’t touching me anymore. I wouldn’t be able to make rational decisions if his hands or his mouth were still on me.
All kinds of ideas flow through my mind at the thought of the two of us alone in one of our apartments. It would be an incredible night, of that I’m sure. Instead, I blink a few times and center myself. “I will give you a ride back to your own home, yes.”
I’m about to lose my mind when he pouts at me. It’s so fucking endearing and sexy, all at the same time. He’s trying to send me into an early grave, and the worst part is that I genuinely don’t know if he’s aware of what he’s doing.
His lips shift into a lop-sided smile, and my traitorous heart skips a beat. “I appreciate it,” he says before he starts making his way to the steps. “I assume we’re done here for the night?”
I nod, refusing to look at the bulge in his shorts. The evidence of our chemistry is still very present. “Yeah. I’ll meet you at the building entrance in fifteen minutes.”
I let out a long exhale when he’s gone and take a few moments to try and compose myself. I don’t want to think about how close I came to doing something incredibly stupid tonight. Or that there’s a very good possibility that it will happen again.