Chapter 29 Dex - Past
twenty-nine
Dex - Past
HANDS ON THE HEADBOARD.
“You wear it,” Jonah said, crossing his arms. As if I’d given him a choice.
I wasn’t in the mood for an argument, not with him, so instead of replying I just stepped forward and shoved the helmet over his head.
“But you nee—”
“If you don’t wear it, then we’re walking back to my house, and I’d rather not leave my father’s bike here, Jonah.
” I cut him off. Maybe it was my harsher than usual tone, or that I’d called him Jonah instead of Rabbit, but either way he crossed his arms over his chest and fell silent.
I didn’t need to see his face to know he was probably pouting under there, but as long as he didn’t take the helmet off I didn’t care.
I swung my leg over Delilah, settling into the seat as far forward as I could in order to make room for Jonah behind me. My bike wasn’t equipped for a passenger—single saddle seat with no passenger foot pegs. She was designed for solo riding, and that had never been an issue for me before.
Jonah looked between me and the bike, hesitating.
“Come on, Rabbit. She won’t bite you.”
With a muffled huff, he stepped forward, a hand on my shoulder as he swung his leg over and slotted in behind me.
“Delilah isn’t used to taking two, so stay as close to me as you can.
” I grabbed his hands, lightly resting on my waist, and pulled them tight around my middle.
Then grabbed the underside of his knees and hiked his legs up.
“Hug me with them, tight as you can. I don’t want your legs dangling like spaghetti when we hit the road. ”
Whatever he grumbled in response was swallowed up by my helmet.
Delilah’s engine rumbled to life. Jonah clung tighter to me as we started moving, and soon the wind was stinging my face, knotting my hair, but with his warmth at my back and my heart in tune with the bike beneath me, there wasn’t anywhere I’d rather be.
When I modified my bike to carry Jonah, and I already knew I would, then I’d take us on a longer ride. As it was, I made my way straight to Meadow Park, taking us home.
Jonah’s legs were a little shaky when we stopped. I smiled to myself as I dismounted and took the helmet from him. His cheeks were pink, his hair ruffled, and he fidgeted with the sleeves of my jacket.
I took his hand and pulled him along with me into the house, up the stairs, desperate to get him into bed, not even in a sexual sense. I just needed his body on mine somewhere we could just breathe and exist with nothing but each other.
Jonah let me pull him along until we passed the bathroom door just before my bedroom, and he came to a stop, yanking his hand out of mine.
“What?” I sighed, for once feeling far too tired for this game of cat and mouse, of the push and pull.
“Shower first.”
I sighed again. “Fine.”
Jonah stared at me expectantly until I stomped into the bathroom ahead of him. I stripped quickly, letting my clothes fall to the floor with little care or finesse. Jonah watched in silence.
“You going to get undressed too, or do only I need to shower?” I asked him, my voice dry. I couldn’t be too displeased with his request; echoes of blood, sweat, and sand still clung to my skin.
Normally after fight night, when the storm of adrenaline and thrill of violence faded from my system, I’d crash hard.
It was one of the few times I could sleep with little trouble, so I rarely bothered showering until the morning after.
If that habit grossed my Rabbit out, though, I guess I’d have to change it.
Jonah started to strip, his cheeks flushed and signature scowl firmly in place. I turned away from him to start the water. When it was warm enough, I stepped under the spray, followed closely by a very quiet Jonah. I reached for the soap, pausing when Jonah’s hand shot out to block me.
“I want to do it,” he told me.
“This again? I know you can do it yourself, Jonah, but it’s okay to let me—”
“No.” Jonah cut me off. “I mean… I want to do it… for you.”
“You want to wash me?”
His cheeks darkened as he nodded.
I felt my lips tug into a smile. More than the hot water cascading over our bodies, I was warmed by the understanding that Jonah had wanted me to shower with him, not because he thought I was dirty, but because he wanted to take care of me.
“Okay, Rabbit.”
He couldn’t meet my eyes as he reached for the soap, lathering it up in his hands before he brought it to my chest, washing away so much more than the sweat and dirt.
He was gentle, particularly over areas that were scraped up or split open from the night’s events.
He didn’t need to be gentle. Jonah wasn’t capable of hurting me.
Any sensations delivered by Jonah’s hands were welcomed and wanted.
Even pain would feel like a reward from those slender fingers.
When he’d washed my front, his hands urged me to turn around, and as much as I wanted to tease him, I resisted. My rabbit could be skittish at best. I didn’t want to scare him off when he was initiating affection.
He gave my back the same level of care. His touch was soft, affectionate, intimate, but not sexual. He’d avoided washing my dick too closely, even though it was already desperate to show him just how appreciative it was.
When he was done with the soap, he reached for the shampoo, lathering it up in my hair and combing his fingers through to detangle the many knots from riding without a helmet.
I’d never had this before. I’d never given it to anyone either, except for Jonah, but I’d never given him anything with the hope of getting it back.
I understood now why he was so cautious of care.
Touch was foreign to him, and this type of touch was foreign to me too.
It would take time for our minds to process it, to understand what it was, what it meant, what to do with it.
Jonah urged my head to tilt back under the water, washing away the foam. I was thankful for the heated stream that ran over my face, even as it stung at the cuts, because I wasn’t sure that everything trickling down my cheeks was water anymore.
His hands left me, and I remained where I was, secretly hoping they would find me again, and opening my eyes only when they didn’t. I attempted to turn around. Jonah stopped me.
“Don’t look for a second.” He shoved my shoulder to turn me back around.
“Why can’t I look?”
“Because. You just can’t.”
“What are you doing, Rabbit?”
“I’m… washing.”
“Washing what?”
“None of your business,” he snapped, and the defensiveness told me enough.
“You should let me do it.”
“No!”
“I’ll use my tongue.” The sharp inhale behind me brought another smile to my lips. I dared to push him a little further. “Let me taste you, baby.”
“I’m…” He took a steadying breath. “You mean… my dick?”
“Were you washing your dick?” I asked, already knowing the answer.
“No.”
“Then that’s not what I meant.”
Jonah was silent, no doubt considering what I was offering, deciding whether he could let himself be that vulnerable with me.
“Just turn around, Rabbit. Put your hands on the wall.”
More silence in response.
“Given I’m not allowed to look, you’ll have to tell me when you’ve done that.”
Jonah snapped, “I’ve done it!”
“And I can turn around now?”
A longer pause before he responded. “Yes.”
I tried to keep my amusement to myself as I turned around, finding him exactly how I’d told him to be—his pale back exposed to me, lithe and toned, and his skin flushed pink from more than the temperature of the water.
I trailed a fingertip between his shoulder blades before tracing down the curve of his spine, watching as the muscles reacted to me, rippling and shifting in anticipation.
Then I was on my knees. My hands cupped his firm cheeks, massaged them in appreciation.
Jonah shivered under my touch, but he didn’t tell me to stop or shift away, so I continued.
Rough hands on smooth skin—kneading, squeezing, soothing.
I spread his cheeks, revealing his hole, taking the chance to appreciate this part of him that had accepted me last night for the first time.
Now it belonged to me and only me. All mine. Just like the rest of him.
I wasted no more time, diving in tongue first, and Jonah made a startled sound that morphed into a moan.
He was stiff, trying to decide if he liked the new sensation or not, but the more my tongue lapped and stroked at his sensitive opening, the more he melted against the cool tiles of the shower wall, until his back was arching and he was tilting his ass toward me, offering himself to me, and seeking more of the sensations I was eager to give to him.
His legs quivered, and his breath was heavy, soft sounds leaving his perfect lips as I licked and probed, and when my tongue pressed lightly inside him, he cried out.
I pressed in further, until my tongue was fucking him in shallow thrusts and Jonah was a whimpering mess.
Using one hand to keep his cheeks spread for me, I let the other smooth between his thighs, fingertips tracing along the skin below where I was licking, then forward to cup his balls.
“Fuck,” he whimpered. “Devil, mnn fuck.”
“Like me eating you out, baby?” I asked between licks, his pretty hole twitching in need every time I abandoned it. “Like it when I taste what’s mine?”
“Fuck, Dex.”
Jonah’s hips thrust forward, and I pulled back enough to see that one of his hands had left the wall and he was stroking himself off.
“That’s mine too,” I growled, grabbing his wrist and pulling his hand away. “You’re not allowed to touch it.”
“Please,” he whined. “I need more, Dex, please.”
I smiled. “Of course, baby. All you had to do was ask.”
My hand replaced his, wrapping around his cock as he moaned again. Then I was picking up right where I’d left off, my tongue pressing as deep into him as I could manage.