Hair unkempt in a way that makes him look dangerously fuckable.
“It's over,” I say. “It's done.”
Taking me by the hand, he leads me to a cupboard full of towels.
“Come stand next to the fire,” he says, ushering me into the lounge.
Without hesitation, he peels the sodden hoodie from my body.
Then my damp shirt and jeans.
Wrapping a towel around my hips, he whispers three little words.
“Take them off.”
“My underwear?”
Holding my gaze, Olsen nods a yes.
He offers me a pair of fleecy pajama pants and a faded gym shirt.
Rolling the briefs down to my ankles, I thaw myself next to the hearth.
The heat from the burning log, the rough texture of my towel.
It’s such a pleasing sensual combination.
Olsen’s smile is both coy and apologetic.
“I'm not trying to seduce you,” he vows.
“I'd take my damn sweet time if I were undressing you like that.”
But I’m done with good manners.
When I let the towel fall, I give no warning.
Ass bare, my erection is on full display.
I give that boy a look which requires no interpretation.
Olsen keeps talking, words spilling out of him.
“I know you're vulnerable right now. I know the pain of losing Porter is fresh.”
“That’s not…”
“… and I'm not here to take advantage.”
“That’s not what this is,” I sigh. “Ol, you’re not just some fleeting distraction.”
“I’m not?”
No, I mouth silently.
“More than just a rebound?”
“Far more. I’ve been falling for you ever since we met.”
