Chapter Twenty-Eight
Will
Kennedy’s naked on her knees in front of me, hair in a bun on the top of her head, tugging my underwear down, and I have to look at the ceiling to stop myself from getting hard.
“Lift,” she demands. I lift my leg and let her take off my boxers, then slide a trash bag up and over my knee splint.
There is a hole at the bottom of the bag where my foot sticks out.
“Tape.” I hand her the roll of masking tape and she goes to town on securing the bag to my skin.
She wraps the tape around my ankle four times which is two times too many.
She does the same around my upper thigh.
I know she wants to make it water tight, but if she keeps this up much longer, I won’t have any hair left in just two distinct chunks of my leg.
It's like I’m getting waxed every time I bathe.
“Really?” She says, glancing at my rapidly hardening cock.
I roll my eyes. “It's not my fault you're naked on your knees like that. My dick is confused. He thinks you’re about to blow me.”
“Be good in the shower and I will.”
Now I’m fully hard. “I’m always good in the shower.”
She snorts, “Okay.” She turns on the water, twisting the knob and stepping into the tub.
She grabs the removable shower head, running it over her hand to test the water, turning the knob again to adjust the temperature.
Once satisfied, she lets the shower head drop so the spray hits the tile near her feet.
“Come on,” she says, holding her arm out for me to grab.
I take her hand in mine spinning on one foot, using her for balance until my back is to her.
With one hand still gripping her, I rest the other against the wall, slowly dipping into pistol squat until my ass hits the edge of the tub.
From here, I transfer myself to the plastic shower chair Kennedy’s standing behind and flick the curtains shut.
She takes a few seconds to run her nails through my hair and over the tops of my shoulders before picking up the showerhead and bringing it to my neck.
She’s quick and efficient in her ministrations.
Shampooing and rinsing my hair without getting soap into my eyes or water on my face.
She presses her lips to my jaw once before hooking her hands into my armpits.
“On three. One, two, three.” She grunts, lifting me (more like making sure I keep my balance) while I stand up.
I brace myself with both hands on the wall in front of me while she picks up the shower chair and sets it on the other side of the tub so we can wash the rest of my body.
Sometimes I can convince her to wash my cock for me, stroking me with body wash until I come, but I can already tell she’s in a no-nonsense mood today.
In fact, she seems really closed off right now.
Normally she’s way more affectionate and physical with me, playfully kissing and nipping along my neck every step of the shower process, letting me wash her boobs for her.
I feel kinda shitty about my earlier comments the more that I’m thinking about it. Maybe I’m relying on her too much right now and I should ask Liam or Adrian to help me next time. It’ll be humiliating, but I know they’d do it if I asked.
She hands me a washcloth already loaded up with soap. “Everything okay?”
“Of course, why wouldn’t it be?” She says, voice sounding tight.
“I don’t know, you just seem off.”
She hums out a response and runs a soapy wash cloth over my back while I tend to my junk.
The longer she doesn’t say anything, the more in my head I’m getting about it.
I’m definitely relying on her too much. I’ve made up my mind, I’m not asking her to help me shower for another two weeks. I’ll have to just suck it up.
“I got accepted to University of Michigan’s law school this morning.”
“That’s amazing! I knew you’d get in.” She mumbles out an unenthusiastic thanks.
If I could spin around and pick her up, I would, but I can’t.
So I settle for circling her wrist and tugging her to me until her front is pressed against my back and her arms are wrapped around my middle, hands resting on my belly.
I think I know why she’s being quiet. We haven’t talked about what we’re going to do next year if we don’t get accepted to the same school.
“Hey,” I say over my shoulder, “I’m so proud of you. UMich is an extremely competitive program. You’d be crazy not to go there. It doesn’t matter if I get accepted or not, we’ll make it work.”
“You’d do long distance?”
“Of course I would. It's me and you, baby. I don’t care if I have to fly to you every weekend, we’ll make it work.”
She nods against my back, lightly nipping my shoulder before stepping back and holding up the showerhead for me to rinse off while avoiding my leg as much as possible. I can’t wait until I get a splint I can take on and off.
She helps me out of the tub and onto the plastic shower chair, then hops back in and quickly soaps herself.
I’m finished drying myself off when she slides open the curtains and holds out her hands for a towel.
I watch her as she rubs the towel over her arms and legs before wrapping it around her torso held in place by her arms. When she steps out, I snatch her by the waist and plant her in my lap. “Your knee!”
“My knee is perfectly fine with you right where you are.” She glances down at it like she doesn’t believe me.
I grab her chin between my thumb and forefinger, turning her face until she’s looking directly at me.
“I’m serious, Kennedy. It doesn’t matter what schools we go to or where we live for the next three years, there is no universe in which I let you go.
You’re like the sun or the moon or air. I don’t want to know what my world would look like without you in it. ”
She whispers against my lips, “I love you, Will Taylor.” Then kisses me good and long before patting my chest with her hand and saying, “Come on, old man, we’re gonna be late to the first book club of the year.”
The End.