Page 89 of People Like Us

When I finished rinsing the soap off, I pressed my shoulders against the cool shower wall and looked up at the removable shower head. I sighed, and reached up to grab it. I moved the hard stream between my legs and bit down on my bottom lip to keep myself from moaning too loudly as the jet of water hit my clit.

August let out a groan, his hand adjusting himself through his jeans and his eyelids grew heavy. His mouth hung open in a desperate little pout as he panted, “You are my favorite fucking thing.”

I smiled widely. “Prove it.”

August didn’t hesitate, his fingers trembling as they undid the button of his slacks. He pushed them off, not bothering to fold them like he had with the shirt. His hand slipped under the band of his briefs, and gripped his hard length tightly, already stroking.

His eyes flickered to mine briefly, “Can I take these off too?”

“Yes,” I said quickly, eager for the thing I hadn’t realized I was allowed to ask for.

August kept his hand on his cock as he used the other to take off that last article of clothing, kicking them into the pile with his pants and my dress.

My mouth went dry instantly, my tongue swelling with a deep need to be on him. I kept myself glued to the wall, my gaze focused on the bead of precum dripping from the head of his cock onto his slender fingers, rubbing the underside of his head that was throbbing with my favorite color.

I didn’t realize how still I’d gone until August cleared his throat before saying, “Is this okay?”

I nodded, my voice a reverent plea, “Fuck, yes.”

I shifted the stream higher, as I used my other hand to slowly tease my entrance. My head fell back against the wall as I found the perfect spot. August’s strokes grew more urgent, his hips lifting and falling in time with the tension between us.

“Lola, I’m not going to last long,” he warned, his whole body beginning to curl inward.

“I’m almost there.” I promised. My nipples stood so tightly against the steam filled air that it was almost painful to leave them untouched. I pulled my hand from my center, slick with my own arousal, and pinched the sensitive mounds hard. The sensation sent a violent wave of pleasure through me. My inner walls contracted, forcing my thighs to tremble and press together around the water’s hot pulse.

August’s hips bucked forward at the sight, his green eyes flickering between the hand at my chest and the shower head at my center, unsure which was more deserving of his attention. The veins on his forearms stood out as he twisted his hand in rough circles around the head of his straining cock.

“I can’t wait to feel you around me,” he groaned.

That was all it took to send me over the edge. I forced myself to keep my eyes open as my orgasm crashed through me quicker than it ever had before. My knees went weak, my back arching. As soon as the high pitched moan left my throat, August was coming too.

White ropes shooting from him, and coating his fingers as he groaned loudly, the sound echoing in the tiny room. I barely had time to process it before he was coming toward me, his mouth on mine, pressing me against the wall with that same hand against my chest.

He grasped my breast, kneading it as his tongue slipped against mine. “God damn it.” he growled into my mouth. His other hand came up, slipping into my freshly washed hair at the nape, pulling me closer to him as he still stood on the tiled floor. Water was spraying everywhere as I dropped the shower head, and it clanked loudly against the faucet. “One day,” he spoke between desperate kisses, “I’m going to fuck you so good. Just the way you deserve Lola Sinley. I promise.”

His fingers trailed down my body, then dug into my thighs as he lifted me out of the shower. His mouth hovered over mine for a moment before he pulled back, and stepped into the shower himself.

I stood there stunned for a moment and watched as he adjusted the shower head, hanging it back its place in the hook on the wall.

I dried off, and pulled August’s shirt—a soft grey cotton with the Rumors album cover printed on the front—over my head, leaving the sweats on the counter. I used my towel to mop up the water that was covering the tile floor with my foot as I kept my eyes on August’s hands scrubbing soap furiously over his whole body.

He noticed me watching and said “You can put a movie on if you want. I might be a little bit,” his cheeks glowed a deep crimson.

I nodded, understanding that he didn’t want me to witness this part.

“There’s leftover spaghetti in the mini fridge.” he said just as I was closing the door. “I didn’t know if you’d eat at the dance, so I brought some up after dinner.”

I pressed my face into August’s pillow for a moment, breathing him in shamelessly. Cedar soap. Ink. Rainwater. The scent wrapped around me so completely that some embarrassingly animal part of my brain immediately thought about rubbing myself all over the sheets until they smelled more like me than him. The thought made me grin against the pillow.

Outside, wind pushed softly against the window above the bed, carrying the distant hum of the music where all my friends were pretending to like each other more than they really did across the street. The whole place felt suspended outside of time—like if I stayed here long enough the rest of my life might simply dissolve beyond the walls.

The bathroom door opened with a soft creak. August stepped out barefoot in a pair of gray sweatpants hanging low on his hips, his damp hair pushed back messily from his face now instead of carefully styled. His skin was flushed pink from the shower, especially across his chest and shoulders where he’d clearly scrubbed too hard. Fresh soap clung to him thick enough that I could smell it from the bed.

My chest tightened painfully at the sight. He looked softer like this. Human in a way I thought maybe very few people got to see.

I slid backward across the navy sheets without speaking, making room for him beside me. August’s expression warmed instantly at the gesture. He climbed carefully into bed beside me, the mattress dipping beneath his weight. The second he settled, he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to my lips.

Then he paused. A quiet hum of satisfaction vibrated against my mouth. “You ate the spaghetti.”