His eyelids droop, head lolling forward. Spent. Exhausted. Lips red and puffy. The sight of them wrapped around my cock is forever imprinted in my mind.
Hooking up was such a fucking mistake. Not because I didn’t enjoy myself. I did. Way too fucking much. Going down this path is treacherous for my heart and my head.
Anything with him is dangerous.
But I’m a moth to a flame.
He tips to the side—
I catch him by the shoulder, lifting his face with a finger beneath the chin.
“You alright?”
He licks his lips, grey eyes unfocused. “Cum drunk.”
I roll my eyes. “Come on, drama king, let’s get you cleaned up.”
He gives me a lopsided smirk. “Oh,I’mthe drama king? Pretty sure that title belongs to you, sweetheart.”
I hoist his dead weight up, both of us stumbling into the glass. He giggles. Fucking. Giggles.
Dumping a glob of body wash into my palm while holding him upright, I attempt to wash him.
“You weigh a fuckton.”
“Calling me fat?” he slurs with a grin. I level a deadpan glare at him. Asshole knows he’s got a damn model’s body. I prop him against the wall and resume massaging soap into his heated skin.
“If you’re fishing for compliments, fine, you’re gorgeous. Now, do me a favor: don’t fall and crack your head. I’m too tired to make a trip to the ER.”
“Wait, how do I get more compliments—” His bullshitting is cut off by a sharp gasp when my hand grazes his softening cock. “I’m gonna advise staying away from my dick unless you’re planning on round two.”
I arch a brow, scanning his slumped figure. “Babe, you’re barely conscious.”
Suddenly, grey eyes open fully, a bright smile blooming on his face.
Dear Lord, why did you have to make him so fucking beautiful?
“What?” I sigh.
“You called me babe.”
Fuck me, I suck at this. I wasn’t supposed to give in, yet here I am, folding like a flimsy house of cards. Did I ever stand a chance?
Rather than respond, I guide him under the water again to rinse. He tries to reciprocate, but I swat him off and spin him around to shampoo and condition his hair. I'm massaging his scalp when he lets out a whimpered moan that goes straight to my balls.
Then he falls silent. I assume he’s half asleep until I’ve finished and we step out to towel off. There’s a serious set to his jaw and a little line between his brows. Maybe he regrets it? My stomach knots.
He grabs his wet jeans—
“You can’t wear those.”
Pausing, he shoots me a confused look. “Why not?”
Is he serious?
“They’rewet.”
His eyes narrow. “I mean… I don’t have anything else, so unless you expect me to walk out of here naked.”
