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I looked up at him from my knees, and for the first time, I thought maybe Emerson was blushing. “You’re really trying to build up my ego, aren’t you?”

“I just tell the truth.” I stood. “Now hush so I can get naked.”

Emerson chuckled while I ripped out of my clothes, and then I opened the glass doors of the shower and signaled for him to go first. Once we were closed inside, I nudged him under the spray, then grabbed a black sponge. “I don’t like these. You got one in my bathroom too.”

“What’s wrong with them?”

“Just don’t like ’em.” I pumped some of his body wash into it, then began rubbing his chest, abs, shoulders. Our cocks kissed when he moved, and Emerson hissed, but neither of us made the move to get off with each other. His muscles were tense, like he wasn’t sure about this whole thing, but still let me take care of him. I liked it, caring for a man this way.

I had to fight myself not to play with his pretty cock when I washed him, not to nuzzle his balls and taste their weight on my tongue. Jesus, men were beautiful. I loved exploring their bodies, just like mine, only different too. “Turn around.” My voice was rough and gravelly. Again, Emerson obeyed, and I started at his feet, working my way up his calves, thighs, his tight ass.

I worked the sponge between his cheeks, spread them so I could see his tight hole. “Well, if that ain’t the most temptin’ thing I’ve ever seen, I don’t know what is. When you gonna let me inside?” My thumb brushed over his rim.

“Now, whenever. Anytime.”

Anytime? I wondered if he meant that. If we’d graduated past weekends, or if he was just needy and hurting right now and everything would go back to how it was.

“Soon.” On my feet again, I cleaned his back, his shoulders, let him rinse off before I washed and conditioned his hair.

I made quick work of my body next, swatting his hands away every time he tried to touch me, to wrap his arms around me, almost died when he rubbed his cock up and down my crease when I bent over.

“Be good.”

“I don’t want to.”

“I didn’t ask you what you wanted.”

When we got out, I made him let me dry him off too. He acted as if he didn’t like it, but I could see that he did. That it made him feel loved, and Emerson didn’t think he deserved to have anyone care about him.

I pulled the blanket back on his bed and signaled for him to get inside. Yeah, he’d fallen asleep earlier, but he had to be mentally exhausted too. He’d been through the wringer today and didn’t look like he’d slept much since I was here last.

Once he was there, I covered him up, then turned for the door. Emerson’s hand shot out, wrapping around my wrist. “How do you know I didn’t do it?”

“Just do,” I answered simply.

His hesitation stretched for what felt like eternity. “I…”

“I’ll stay till you fall asleep, then head to my room.” Because somehow, I knew that’s what he wanted but could never say.

When I had the lights out and lay with him, Emerson whispered a soft, “Thank you.”

He passed right out, but I stayed longer than I should. It took everything in me to pull myself out of his bed, but I wouldn’t overstay my welcome. I wanted Em to know he could trust me, that I’d do what I said.

It was late, but I got dressed and went outside to make sure the animals were all put away and doing all right. Back inside, I washed the dinner dishes, then went to my room. I was worn out too, tired but restless. I was still awake a couple of hours later when he came into the room and climbed into my bed.

The moon was bright, casting a soft glow through the window. I was on my side, and Emerson lay the same way, the two of us facing each other. He was naked, just like I always slept when I was here.

He didn’t speak, but he didn’t need to. Words weren’t needed in that moment, just the crackle of intense heat and feeling between us that told me everything I needed to know.

My lips pressed against his, soft, gentle touches before I was filled with too much want not to let him taste it on my tongue, feed off it as I groaned into his mouth, pushed between his lips, giving and taking, tasting, and damn, I was addicted to his flavor.

Emerson rolled to his back, salt on his lips. I thrust against him, let our erections feel the same pleasure our mouths sought from each other. He tasted like dreams I never thought would come true. Felt like my happiness was stitched into his skin. Made me wonder if maybe his could be in mine too if I evicted that bone-deep sadness inside him. Whether he knew it or not, Em had eased the loneliness that lived inside me.

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