Page 100 of Rock Me

When he couldn’t reach for a tissue.

How each time it must've reminded him of what he may have lost. And how much physical pain he’s been through.

Yet, he ignored it to carry me. To bed. Twice.

"You are going to okay,” I repeat. For myself this time, to comfort myself for the anguish I imagine he’s going through.

"What if I'm not… there’s so much wrong with me…" he sobs into my shoulder, and the catch in his voice tears at my heart like a rake dipped in acid.

"Hey, I'm not saying your hands will ever fully heal, I can't. But there isn’t anything wrong with you. Not you. And I know, that YOU, my mystery, sexy, gorgeous, beautiful man. You are going to be okay. I promise you."

"You promise?" And I have to bite my tongue to stop from crying at the helplessness in his voice.

"Listen to me. Look at me.” He lifts his head, and I can barely make out his pupils through my own blurry vision. “I promise you. Do you hear me, do you see how much I mean it?

He nods, "No one's been able to promise me before."

"I'm not just anyone."

"No, you're not.” His lips quivers again and I push his head back down onto my chest, so that my heartbeat can steady his breaths.

I feel my own tears fall hot and full down my face as I ache for him. Holding him tighter, hoping the water transfers his pain to me.

Give me it all. I'll take it all, I whisper to any power greater than me that can make it so.

I don't know how long we lay there. This broken man and I. Just that when it's finally quiet, I'm not the same person I was before. And I don't think he is either.

He lifts his head, his eyes red, his hair wet, the clothes clinging to every inch of his body.

"I'm sorry,” he murmurs.

"Shhh, what on earth are you sorry for?"

"I'm sorry, I'm... I'm not him."

"Him?" I point to the TV. "I never knew him. I know you. Baby, I want you."

"Even though I’m broken?"

"Every jagged, delicate, imperfect piece."

I bite my lip and his eyes stray to my mouth. He looks back up to me and there’s heat in his eyes now. Something solid compared to the mist of pain that was looking in them before.

He rolls off me and leans his back against the wall of the tub, the water spilling over the sides as he grabs my hips and pulls me on top of him.

My legs fall on either side of him, and I can feel him growing hard against me. I reach for the hem of his T-shirt and lift it over his head. It's wet and heavy and he laughs as I struggle to throw it over the side.

And then he stops laughing. Eyes dark and serious as he reaches under the water, his hands finding me, the spot between my legs.

I spread my knees further apart, sinking deeper, holding my breath as he caresses me. His fingers tracing along the lines of my skin, as I slide the zipper of his jeans down.

He moves his hand away, just for a moment, as he wriggles out of his jeans.

I reach into the water to fist his cock. He groans as I run my fingers up and down the length; he’s already rock hard. He leans his head back against the side of the tub for a few seconds as my hand grips him harder, pumping him, getting him ready.

"Jez, I want you. All of you," I whisper. And he nods.

I stroke him, hard and fast, watching his Adam’s apple moving up and down his throat as he breathes deeply. Even under the water I can feel the slickness of the drop forming on the tip of his cock.