18. Chapter Eighteen #2
I take my time with each page, reading slowly, and keeping my voice low.
Rylee tells me a couple times I’m “not saying it right” for certain parts, and so I have her say them out loud instead.
But as each page is turned, I find myself getting tired and fighting sleep.
It isn’t until I hear the click of the light, that I realize I must have dozed off and there’s a stuffed cow in my lap and a pig wedged under my arm.
Rylee is completely out.
“Hey,” Dre’s low voice stirs me.
“Shit, what time is it?” I ask, removing the animals and the books from my lap.
“Nine thirty,” Dre says, taking the book from my hands. I stand up, taking in the sight of him in his polo and khakis, looking a little disheveled and tired as well.
“I need to shower,” I say, mustering the energy to move. Dre looks at me for a moment, like he wants to say something, but thinks better of it.
“There’s chicken and pasta in the fridge,” I grumble. “And I meal-prepped. Made extra, so you can take some too. If you want.”
Dre nods as he heads to his daughter, and I watch him kiss her goodnight.
I make my way to the bedroom, and waste no time when I get into the bathroom.
Showering at night will be easier, at least until Dre and Rylee get the morning routine that works for them down. It’ll be a chaotic few weeks, so if I can make things easier on everyone by showering at night? I’ll gladly do that.
The hot water is a heavy relief on my aching muscles. Falling asleep while sitting flush against Rylee’s headboard was not good for my back. At all.
I close my eyes, reveling in the warmth running down my back, when I hear the shower door slide open.
Before I can open my eyes, I feel Dre’s warmth, his solid frame against me, his hands on my hips.
The sigh of relief that leaves me is unmistakable, and then his lips find my neck, and my entire body relaxes as he plants the softest kiss right where my shoulder meets my neck.
My heart races because this is certainly new. Not weird or unwanted. Just… new.
More.
The last few weeks have been a lot for everyone—football camp, professional development, getting the kids ready to go back—getting Rylee and Dre ready for their first day—me, going through all the paperwork and finalizing everything with the insurance and the cancellation of my lease.
And though we’ve had moments here and there, I can’t say we’ve ever done anything like this.
Showered together.
I mean, we have showered together, but not in this capacity, and certainly not with our kids around.
But it’s late, Rylee is asleep, and I really like the way this feels right now; Dre’s mouth on my neck, his hands on my hips. His hard dick pressed against my ass. So I don’t fight or argue.
“This okay?” he asks, his voice low, warm like the water rushing over me. I nod.
“Yes,” I answer solidly.
Dre’s lips trace a path up my neck to my jaw until he finds my mouth with his.
I groan with relief as he kisses me; his hand finding my jaw as he holds me in place.
For a moment, I swear time stops as we stand there underneath the spray, just making out.
Naked. In his shower. My cock voices its interest as I shift my position, turning so I can pin him against the tile.
The need to feel him—to feel his hardness against me like this is…
overwhelming. But also kind of arousing.
If he was expecting my advance, he doesn’t show it. Instead, he lets me push him right up against the tile, deepening the kiss between us as I grind my cock against him, because I need to feel some sort of friction.
Dre breaks our kiss, looking up at me with a hazy gaze, searching my eyes for something I can’t quite place.
I run my fingers over his jaw, over his kiss-swollen lips.
And then I carefully find his cock with my hand, waiting to see if he’ll stop me. He doesn’t.
“This okay?” I ask, the slight nervousness in my voice evident.
Dre nods, and then I feel him, his hand finding my cock, his thumb carefully settled right over my sensitive slit, and it’s only then I realize I’m not just hard as hell, I’m already well on my way to coming.
The last time that happened, I’d been fully clothed, and so was Dre.
But we’re most certainly not clothed now, and while that should make me nervous, maybe a little anxious over seeing or feeling another man’s cum, I don’t feel weirded out at all.
In fact, there’s a desire and curiosity within me that wants to know what it feels like.
“Keep going,” he whispers, his thumb trailing rhythmic lines over my leaking hole. “Don’t stop.”
His words hit me harder than they should, and I don’t hesitate.
I start to stroke him, slowly at first, getting used to the feel of him in my hand, how warm he is, the pronounced raised feel of his vein along his shaft.
Dre kisses me hard, as he slowly starts to move, bucking into my fist as his strokes come faster, harder.
Before I know it, we’re both panting, thrusting into one another’s fists, and I can feel my balls getting tight and I know I’m not going to last much longer.
“Dre, I’m—”
“Me too,” he whispers, his voice warm and smooth as he kisses me, chasing my tongue with his.
I don’t know who comes first, because we both groan low and deep, and my orgasm hits me hard, and I erupt into his hand.
My own fist fills with the rush of his release, and it doesn’t feel as weird as I thought it would.
I keep stroking him, using his cum as lube, until he starts to slow down, his breathing turning steady.
When he pulls away, I can’t help but feel a tight pull in my chest. My heart beats a hundred miles a minute.
We take our time as we wash one another up, not caring that the water’s gone cold.
And when we get out, drying ourselves off, there’s a feeling of contentment that I never thought I’d ever feel again.
We get into bed wordlessly, and I throw my arm over his hip and pull him close. He doesn’t fight me. Exhaustion hits, and I bury my face in his hair, breathing in his soapy, masculine scent.
The way his body molds to mine is so fucking perfect.
He’s fucking perfect.
“Good night, Paul,” he says, his voice far away.
“Night,” I mutter as I let the warmth of his body and the darkness pull me under once more.