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He left his half-finished beer and wandered down the hall. The shower was running in Chris and Sam's bathroom, and the door was half-open. When Sam wasn't home, Chris would leave it like that so steam wouldn't collect. Now that they were all seeing one another naked, he might leave it like that all the time, a nice change to contemplate.
Geoff told himself to keep walking, but you didn't need an invitation from the store owner to window-shop, right? No harm in just looking. Leaning in the doorway, he pushed it inward even farther so he could get a better view.
The shower door was patterned with running water, coated with steam in places, but the view was enough to keep him there. Chris's tall, broad form was outlined, his arms raised and bent to wash his hair, hands scrubbing his scalp. Geoff could visualize the twitch of his bare ass as he shifted from one foot to another, his cock and testicles cradled between his big thighs. Did the belt marks still show on those muscular flanks?
Chris rinsed his hair, picked up the soap and started lathering up. Geoff told himself to go start on his own shower, but as Chris's hands descended, soaping his chest and abdomen, he didn't move. Chris reached his genitals, his feet spread and his shoulders rounded as he took himself in hand to rub and clean. It was as if Geoff could feel those strong fingers around his own cock, tugging, stroking . . .
Chris had stilled. His head was down, but his chin was cocked, tilted toward the door, marking his awareness of Geoff watching him. The water obscured his expression, but if he continued his shower without pause or threw out a casual comment, it would tell Geoff where this moment needed to go. But if he started doing what he was doing now--slowly moving his hand down over himself, back up and down again, all while saying nothing--that was a different kind of scenario.
Geoff moved into the room, pausing outside the shower door. If it had been Sam on the other side, he would have put up his hand without thought, let her press hers to it, a romantic gesture so easy to do with women. But an act of romance and the need to establish intimacy could sometimes be the same thing. He put his palm on the glass. After another pause, Chris put his on it. Geoff took his hand away and emptied his pockets, took off his watch and stepped out of his shoes. Dressed in a T-shirt and jeans, he opened the shower door. As he'd thought, there wasn't a lot of room for both of them, so he left the door open and dropped to one knee on the tile outside, bracing his other foot inside the shower.
The water sliding over Chris now pattered against him, the side of his face, his hair and the shoulders of his T-shirt, wetting them down. The heated spray, the slickness on his skin, reminded him how slick the male in front of him would be.
Putting his hands on Chris's upper thighs, he wrapped his fingers over them, thumbs spread and braced below Chris's balls. When Chris reached up and angled the spray toward the back wall, so it wasn't hitting him in the face, Geoff looked up at the bemused brown eyes.
"I want to put my mouth on you, Chris," he said. "I want to suck you off here in the shower. You okay with that?"
Chris's gaze slid over him. Geoff kneeling in front of him was unexpected, Geoff could tell. But being a Dom, a Master, wasn't about body position, and Chris had told him what he needed, what would make passing over certain thresholds easier for him. A good Master listened, understood and opened up those gates by whatever means were necessary. Especially when the prize would be so damn worth it, and the means to the end were so enjoyable.
When Chris nodded, Geoff pressed his mouth against his stiff length. Chris let out a soft oath and braced a hand on the side of the shower. Yeah, he'd better hold on, because Geoff wanted to make his knees buckle. Parting his lips, he took him to the back of his throat and scored him with his teeth, reminding him he was a biter. Since he followed that up with some targeted pressure with his tongue, Chris's sucked-in breath was followed by a grab for the wall with the other hand. Closing his eyes on a surge of pure satisfaction, Geoff worked on making Chris lose his mind.
"Fuck . . ." Chris's whisper reached him even over the drumming of the water. "How in the hell do you know how to give head like this?"
Geoff grinned around his cock and set his teeth against him, a sensual threat. Reaching between Chris's legs, he fondled his testicles like he was discovering them for the first time, and slid up between his buttocks. Finding them still soapy was a blessing, because he used the slickness to play around his rim while he kept his hand around his crank and kept working it. Crank. That was what they'd called it in school, because it could wind you up, couldn't it? Like now.
Geoff tossed hair out of his eyes and looked up Chris's powerful body. Every rigid muscle was gleaming with the flow of water. He'd have been a hell of a gladiator. That gave Geoff a delectable vision of Chris chained in a cell, waiting to service whoever demanded access to all that physical might. He was rocking on the balls of his feet against Geoff's pull. Geoff kept his hand busy working him and Chris's gaze went to slits, looking down at him feverishly, mouth tight.
"Mouth or hand, Chris?" Geoff cocked his head. "I'm betting you like the idea of coming in my mouth. Don't you?"
Chris's jaw flexed, and he reached down to push the hair out of Geoff's eyes. The pressure of his thumb was a rough and erratic touch. His ass was quivering beneath the spread of Geoff's fingers. "I like your hand," he said hoarsely. "But your mouth . . . fuck, your mouth feels incredible."
"Lean back against the corner and take hold of the shower bars," Geoff ordered, moving him in that direction. The bars had come as part of the house, an installation from someone who'd had an elderly relative or was just particularly safety conscious. Either way, it worked. Chris looke
d momentarily confused, as if he wasn't sure what Geoff was trying to do, but Geoff gripped his wrist and molded his friend's hand over the steel.
"I want to keep you safe. Don't want you to fall. You start to get light-headed, you tell me right away."
"Oh." Chris swallowed. "Yeah." He rallied enough to give Geoff a half smile. "Though you could be overestimating your skill."
The taunt was tangled with an uncertain note in his voice and a haze of lust over his expression, the beads of water on his face slicked along tight cheekbones and pressed lips.
"I'm not." Shooting him a devilish look, Geoff returned to proving it. He took two firm handfuls of Chris's ass. As he sucked on him, went down on him again and again, he flexed his strong hands over his buttocks, pushing his fingertips into his rectum, taking him deeper and deeper on both ends. Somewhere along the way, pleasuring became demand, and Chris was fully in his hands, on a couple of different levels.
He was groaning, panting with Geoff's strokes, his large hands gripping those bars so hard Geoff hoped they were well-anchored. His toes were curled into the tile. Geoff was soaking wet, but steam could have been coming off his flesh, he was so inflamed by Chris's response. His Chris. His boy. His brother in all ways that mattered, but thank God, not actually his brother.
Chris swore, a long breath like birds taking flight off a lake, and he thrust harder, wilder, into Geoff's mouth. The release came, flooding Geoff's tongue and throat. Despite Chris's orgasm punching up his strength, like Dr. Banner perilously close to transforming into the Hulk, Geoff held on to him.
As Chris groaned harshly, hips still bucking, Geoff sucked him off to the last drop, getting every pulsing, throbbing contraction that spilled seed into his mouth and onto the shower floor.
When Chris finally started slowing down, the heat of the shower and the climax did what Geoff had anticipated it doing. He was ready for it, on his feet and pinning Chris to the wall with his body, holding him around the waist and shoulders, keeping him upright as he gasped for air and pressed his head back against the tile, gulping for air. Geoff shut off the water with his elbow as he held him. Chris's heart was hammering against Geoff's chest.
"Jesus." Chris didn't take the Lord's name in vain. He didn't claim any particular religion as his own, but he did have a healthy respect for all forms of divinity, so Geoff had always suspected that any name or word that represented those powers was included in that respect. It was one of Chris's many eccentricities that he appreciated in ways he didn't even think about. They were an essential part of who Chris was.
"Sitting down."
Geoff let Chris sink to his ass on the tile. He stepped out of the shower, keeping the door wide-open so the maximum amount of oxygen filled the small space. Sitting down on the tile outside the stall, Geoff kept a proprietary hand on his knee, both in reassurance and because he wanted to keep touching him. Chris propped his wrists on his spread knees, his forearm against Geoff's hand, and turned his head toward Geoff, though he kept his temple braced against the tile wall.
"I could feel it," Chris said slowly. "You were on your knees, sucking my dick, but somehow, you were still in charge. How do you do that?"
