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After work, Silas suggested that we go out to dinner. It was a change, not eating in one of our apartments with our laptopsopen or some heavy discussion. I guess it was the next step in determining what we were. I wondered if it counted as a date if we were both still in our work clothes.
Silas let me choose the restaurant, and I chose Dana’s Diner. It was close. The food was good, and I had a weakness for comfort food. We didn’t talk much as we ate, but it didn’t feel like an awkward silence. It felt comfortable, lived in. I was surprised by how easy it was to just be quiet with him.
When we paid, I found that I wasn’t ready to say goodbye to him.
“Do you want to come over?” he asked as we walked to our cars, parked side by side at the edge of the parking lot. “I mean, stop and get clothes first, but then come over. Stay the night?”
He sounded nervous. He didn’t even sound that nervous Friday night, when he’d confessed to having feelings for me. I thought it was cute, seeing him all frazzled and his feathers ruffled.
“I was just going to ask you the same thing.”
“My bed’s bigger,” he pointed out immediately.
I laughed. “I wasn’t planning on arguing with you about where we stayed the night, Silas.” I just wanted to spend it with him. The thought should have terrified me, but it didn’t.
It did kind of terrify me to know that he’d see me taking my meds in the morning, but if we were going to make a real attempt at this, then he’d see it time and time again. Might as well rip the band aid off.
When we got to our cars, he gave me a quick kiss. “I’ll see you soon?”
“Yeah.” I stole another quick peck and climbed into my car to drive home and get my stuff.
“Are you getting tired?” Silas asked me after the third episode of some sci-fi show rolled it’s credits on his television.
We’d been watching it since I’d gotten there, curled up on his couch. It had taken a few attempts to figure out how we best fit together. It wasn’t like in movies, where you just know how to fit your bodies together on a couch. It had taken a few tries to get comfortable, but we’d finally found a position that worked for us, one that felt natural. He was, of course, the big spoon in our cuddle session.
I figured he’d also be the big spoon when we slept.
Did he spoon? I couldn’t remember the last time I’d actually shared a bed with someone other than one of my friends; the last time I’d been cuddled to sleep. I figured it would be like the couch—we’d have some trial and error before figuring out how to sleep next to one another.
I yawned. “A little bit,” I admitted. My eyes drifted to the digital clock under his television. It was earlier than I usually went to bed, but the warmth of his body had lulled me into a sleepy state. “You ready for bed?”
“Ready to start getting ready.” He paused. “Shower?”
Did I want to see Silas Morgan naked and dripping water? Yes please.
I followed Silas through his apartment to the bedroom. We bypassed the hall bathroom I’d used the first night I’d been there. He led me past the bed and straight into a door I’d thought was a closet. Instead, it was a massive en suite bathroom.
My eyes went wide as I took in the luxury. I knew his condo was nice, but this bathroom was next level. The shower lookedbig enough to hold four full size men, and there was a garden tub lined with a few small tea candles. I raised an eyebrow, and he shrugged. “Candlelit baths with a book are kind of a guilty pleasure.”
I hadn’t expected that one from him, but okay.
He started to get undressed, dropping his clothes onto the tile floor, and waited for me to do the same. I tore my eyes away from the expanse of skin he was revealing and began undressing. Once we were both naked, he opened the glass door to the shower and began adjusting the water. “Are you a seventh circle of hell hot water type?” he asked, looking at me over his shoulder.
“Not really. I like hot, but I want to keep the skin on my body.”
He laughed and adjusted the temperature a little before having me put my hand in to make sure it was a good temperature for me. I was struck by the consideration of the simple action.
“That’s perfect,” I declared, even if it was a little warmer than I usually liked my showers. I wasn’t going to be too picky, especially if he was one of those people who liked their water to be the approximate temperature of lava.
He stepped into the shower before me, directly into the flow of the water.
He looked better than I’d imagined with the water cascading over his abs. My mouth watered, and I just stood there at the door to the shower drooling.
“You coming in?” he asked, snapping me out of my lust filled reverie.
I nodded, not trusting my brain not to spit out something incoherently lustful. I stepped into the shower, and he switched places, letting me get wet. It was his turn to look at me like I was a whole meal. I could practically feel his eyes caressing my bare skin. My cock twitched under his attention. I knew too well how good he could make my body feel, and suddenly, I wasn’tanywhere near as tired as I’d been. His eyes on my body were so much more effective than coffee at waking me up.
He reached past me to grab his bottle of body wash, grazing my shoulder as he did. The simple touch got me half hard, a fact he noticed almost immediately. “Thought you were tired,” he teased.
