Chapter 12 – Haley
I wake with a start, and for a split second I’m unsure of where I am. A moment later, I realize I’m lying on a warm, firm surface. Philip. His chest rises and falls beneath my cheek with a steady, even rhythm. Surprisingly, he makes a pretty comfortable bed, but I’m sure I’m crushing him.
I ease off of him and the sofa. I’m wearing his clean clothes, but my skin feels tacky from the sunscreen I put on earlier. I need a shower. Earlier, I just didn’t have the energy, but now I do.
In his bathroom, I find towels and a washcloth in the linen closet.
I turn on the water, and while the shower is heating up, I relieve my bladder.
I strip out of Philip’s clothes and lay them neatly on the bathroom counter.
After draping the towels over the frosted glass shower doors, I step into the spray.
The warm water feels like heaven against my skin. Quickly, I lather up the washcloth and get to work, scrubbing every inch of me to remove the sunscreen’s residue. I’m trying hard not to dwell on what happened today at the beach, but the memories keep flooding back.
I can still hear that poor woman screaming for help as she watched her son flailing in the water. The image of the kid going under and not resurfacing is something I don’t think I’ll ever forget.
And then there was Philip, rushing in to help without a second thought for his own safety. He acted on pure instinct. He saw someone in trouble, and he ran to help.
I’ve always known Philip is a good man, but I didn’t realize just how good—how selfless he is—until now.
I shampoo my hair, scrubbing my scalp mercilessly, and as I’m rinsing it, I hear a soft knock on the bathroom door.
“Haley? Is everything okay?” Philip sounds hesitant, like he’s afraid he’s intruding. “Do you need anything?”
“I’m okay.” No, I’m not. You could have died today. I want to wrap my arms around him and reassure myself he’s okay. “Actually, I do need something.”
At first, he doesn’t respond, and I think he didn’t hear me. He may have already walked away. But then I hear his voice through the door. “Anything. Just tell me.”
His unequivocal answer gives me the courage I need to ask for what I want. “Can you come in here?”
Another brief pause, and then the bathroom door opens slowly. The room is full of steam, and the glass doors are frosted, so my view of him is hazy.
“I’m right here, babe,” he says. “What do you need?”
I crack open one of the shower doors and peer out at him. He’s dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, and his brown hair is a wild mess as it dried while we were napping on the sofa.
I swallow hard to summon the courage to say what I want to say. “I need you to come in here with me.” And then I slide open the glass door so he can see me. All of me.
His eyes widen, and he swallows hard. “Haley.” His voice has dropped an octave.
He’s seen me topless before, but he’s never seen me fully naked.
The intensity of his stare makes me want to grab a towel and cover myself, but I’m not going to.
There’s a first time for everything, and if I want a relationship with this man, I’ll just have to get used to being naked in front of him.
He hesitates as if this is a line he’s not ready to cross. Or, rather, he thinks it’s a line I’m not ready to cross. But he’s wrong. I am ready.
With sudden clarity, I realize Philip didn’t just display his heroism today. He’s been a hero all along. He’s been my protector since the day we met, always the perfect boyfriend towing the line. He’s been the guardian of my innocence as if it’s his job to protect it.
“Come on in,” I say, trying to keep my voice light, acting like this isn’t a major step for us. “The warm water feels great.”
“Haley—”
“Don’t you want to wash off after being in the lake?”
“Yes, but—”
“I’ll wash your back.”
His lips curve up into a sheepish grin. “Sweetheart—”
I reach out, and he gives me his hand. I take hold of it and start pulling him toward me.
“All right!” He laughs. “Let me get undressed.” He releases my hand and whips off his T-shirt, which he tosses onto the floor. He unfastens his jeans and begins to lower them.
He freezes. This is another first for us. I’ve never seen him naked below the belt.
I can see a hint of the thatch of dark hair at his groin. Oh, my God, he has that Adonis V thing. My heart slams into my chest.
“I’m not wearing any underwear.” He says it like it’s a warning.
“That’s okay. Neither am I.”
He laughs. “Fine. You’ve been warned.” He shoves his jeans down to his ankles, steps out of them, and kicks them aside. When he straightens, he stands perfectly still.
It’s as if he knows I need a moment.
Because I do.
Philip is naked.
Gloriously naked.
And I do mean gloriously because his body is a work of art. He’s big and broad and muscular. Now I can see exactly where that happy trail leads.
Beneath a patch of dark hair, his penis is hardening before my eyes.
He was right when he warned me he’s big. I’ve seen pictures of naked men before in my high school anatomy and physiology class. I’ve even seen pictures of erections. And yes, I’ve seen porn videos on the Internet.
I know what a man’s naked body looks like.
I’m not shocked, but in this case, I am impressed.
His shaft is long and thick, and right now it’s standing perpendicular to his body, sort of bouncing as it fights against gravity.
The dark, ruddy head of his penis is peeking out from his foreskin.
His ball sac hangs low and full beneath his erection.
Wow.
I don’t think I said that aloud, but suddenly Philip chuckles, and now I’m not sure.
“You better hurry up,” I say, waving him forward. “I don’t know how long the hot water will last.”
“Don’t worry. It’ll last.”
I take a step back to make room for him when he joins me. He cups my face and leans down to kiss me, and it’s the hottest thing I’ve ever experienced in my life. Philip and I are naked in the shower, and he’s kissing me.
And, oh my God, something firm and insistent is nudging my abdomen.
My head spins at the thought of what might happen right here. In the shower. Just like in the movies.
“Let’s get one thing clear right now,” he says as he pulls back and looks me in the eye. “Our first time will not be in the shower. Is that clear?”
Good grief, now he’s a mind reader.
“Haley?” His tone carries a distinct warning.
“Yes, crystal clear.” Honestly, I’m not going to argue with him on this. I don’t even know how the logistics would work in a shower. I reach for the bar of soap and start lathering my hands. “Turn around.”
With a grin, he does as I ask. I start at his neck and work my way down, slowly massaging his shoulders, his arms, his back, every muscle, every inch of him.
And I keep going. I’m not going to chicken out on this.
I run my soapy hands down his torso, to his hips.
When I lather his firm buttocks, I hear a faint groan.
My hands stall on his hips as I find myself stuck at a crossroads here. Do I dare reach around to his front and, um, wash his—
“Haley.” His voice is gentle now.
“Yes?”
“You don’t have to, sweetheart. I can do that.”
“Would you be uncomfortable if I did?”
“Are you kidding?” He groans more loudly this time, making me chuckle. “Of course not. Trust me, babe, having your hands on my dick is on my bucket list of must-have experiences. It’s something I dream about on a regular basis.”
I’m not about to miss this chance to touch him. I’ve been trying to coax him into having sex with me since we officially started dating, but so far he’s made one excuse after another as to why we shouldn’t.
Not yet, he keeps saying. I don’t think you’re ready.
But I don’t want him to protect me from this.
I want him.
I reach around him and run one soapy palm down the entire length of his erection. When I reach the tip, I brush the pad of my thumb over the tip.
“Fuck!” he cries out hoarsely as he slams his palms against the tile wall in front of him. His head drops forward, and his breaths are ragged.
“Was that okay?” Now I’m afraid I did it wrong.
He blows out a heavy breath. “That was more than okay, sweetheart. I just wasn’t prepared.”
“Because if I did something wrong—”
“Haley, trust me, you can’t do anything wrong. It’s impossible.”
Taking him at his word, I recall the videos I’ve seen of guys jerking themselves off.
I start stroking him in earnest now, using both of my hands.
My hands are wet and slippery, and they glide over him easily.
The skin covering his penis is surprisingly soft to the touch, like velvet, but underneath that, he’s hard as iron.
I stroke him from root to tip, over and over, squeezing firmly, but I hope not too hard. Based on the sounds he’s making, I think it’s just right.
His erection continues to swell in my hands, making him longer and thicker. His breathing deepens, coming out in harsh bellows. I can feel the blood pulsing through the thick veins beneath my fingers.
Even though I can’t see him from where I’m standing, I can feel him. I know what’s happening. And I know if I keep this up, he’ll come.
So that’s exactly what I do. I keep it up. I stroke him, faster and faster, holding him firmly in my grasp. His stance is rigid now, his feet braced apart to keep his balance, and he’s making the most incredibly sexy, deep animalistic sounds.
“Haley—”
That clearly sounded like a warning, but I don’t care. I want to make him come. I want to give him pleasure.
I’m trying to get the courage up to touch his balls, and as soon as I reach lower to cup his sac with one hand, while I’m still stroking his erection with the other, he cries out hoarsely and shudders against me.
“Hale!” He arches his back and his hips buck forward, over and over. He’s still making those incredible sounds.