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“Eli…” I start, but he’s out the door before I can even protest.
He comes back in with a Ziploc bag of ice and a jar of Sloan’s Epsom salts. “Sloan coming in clutch twice this weekend. I knew my sister would have this in her bathroom… my mom always had some by her tub,” Eli says, handing me the ice bag.
“Oh yeah, she has to have her weekly salt soak… it's one of the reasons we chose this apartment building. What else did she do for you this weekend?”
He smirks. “She took her ass home to visit my parents.”
I shake my head at him, but I’m grateful, too. Sloan knows I have a… umm… sexual relationship with her brother. But we have a kind of ‘don’t ask don’t tell’ policy when it comes to that. I’ll never forget this past summer when she opened up to me about her and Wes and I word-vomited that I had been hooking up with Eli. She simply looked at me and shrugged, told me she already knew, that she hoped we knew what we were doing… I assured her it would never come between us, and she said, and I quote, “That’s great, now let's never discuss this again. I really, really don’t want to think about my brother having sex.”
So when Eli mentioned he’d like to come for a visit, I jumped at the opportunity. Knowing Sloan was going home for the weekend and our other roommate Ava had plans to go visit her grandparents out east, I’d have the apartment all to myself.
Eli runs his hand through the water, dumping some of the salts in. “Perfect temp, go ahead and get in.”
I cross my arms over my boobs. “The only way I’m getting in that tub is if you promise to fuck me in there.”
“Damn, stubborn woman. Get in the tub.” Pointing to the bulge in his boxers, he adds, “Does it look like I’m not going to fuck you tonight, Queenie?”
I bite my lip and smirk at his sexy ass before grabbing the waistband of his briefs and popping it against his hard cock. “You better… Hotshot,” I say, squirming as I rub my thumb across the tip of his dick that lays against his stomach.
“Tub… now,” he hisses.
There is no denying I needed this today… my shoulder feels instant relief from the warm water.
“You coming in?” I ask as Eli steps over from my shower with what looks like my shampoo bottle in his hand.
“I’ll be right back.”
When he walks back into the bathroom, he has one of our plastic cups in his hand.
What is he up to?
Eli kneels down beside the tub. “Sit up for just a second.”
“Why?” I ask, but do as he says and move from my comfy position.
Without responding, he reaches for my hair tie, gently removing it from my hair. Then he puts the cup under the water that’s still filling the tub, testing it on his wrist.
“Close your eyes.” When I do, I feel the warm water cascade down my hair several times until he’s satisfied.
He pulls me back, positioning my neck on the side of the porcelain with a towel for comfort. Then he starts massaging shampoo into my head. The groan that comes from my throat is one of pure pleasure.
“Just relax, babe. Let me take care of you… rest your shoulder.”
I’m unable to form words to respond to this act of such tender intimacy. Instead, I close my eyes and melt into the tub and each stroke of his strong fingers along my scalp.
When he gently places a kiss on my injured shoulder, a whimper slips from between my lips.
This is exactly why I have turned down every other man lately.
The guys in college aren’t nearly as fragile as the ones from my high school. They aren’t intimidated by me in the slightest, especially the athletes. Their incessant requests to take me out or take me to bed have definitely been good for my ego, but at the end of the day… none of them arehim.My hot best friend who is currently rinsing the shampoo out of my hair.The one I know is probably going to make me come so hard later that I ruin the bedsheets. And the one who never lets me down. It scares the hell out of me to lose what we have, but I know one day we will have to give it up to remain best friends, and I am okay with that. I know some relationships come and go, but mine and Eli’s friendship is everlasting.
“Okay, this conditioner says to leave it on for eight minutes and then rinse. Is that how you do it?” Eli questions me as he reads the back label.
“I do the deep conditioner sometimes, but we don’t have to tonight. You can get my other regular one out of the shower. It’s the purple bottle,” I say, nodding toward my shower.
“No, that’s perfect. You can lean against the tub and ice your shoulder while it sits.”
I lean back, because I know his mind is made up. He places the ice bag on my right shoulder and begins rubbing the conditioner all over my hair.
