Page 28 of No Strings Attached

Morgan lowered to his knees and slid Sam’s shorts down his legs. Sam tried to think of anything that would stop his cock from getting hard. He stepped out of his shorts, and Morgan led him to the stall. It was a serious challenge, but so far, his cock was behaving.

Until Morgan undressed, leaving only his underwear on.

“What’re you doing?” Sam’s brows shot up as his gaze roamed over Morgan’s sculpted body. This was the first time he’d seen the guy’s chest without a shirt on, and fuck, it was even more impressive than Sam thought. He wanted to touch, to lick, and suck each nipple between his teeth.

“Did you expect me to stand outside the shower and have miraculously long arms to scrub you down?”

Honestly, Sam hadn’t thought that far ahead.

“I have my underwear on,” Morgan pointed out as if Sam was blind to the fact that a nearly naked guy was right there in front of him. Those boxer briefs weren’t going to leave much to the imagination once they became wet, and sweet hell, had he ever seen thighs so muscular before?

He just bet Morgan could crack a walnut with them.

After Morgan led him into the stall, Sam turned around, giving the guy his back. If there had been safety bars in the shower, he would have insisted Morgan leave the bathroom. There weren’t, so Sam had nothing to hold on to if standing became too much.

He went rigid when Morgan slowly turned him. “I can’t wash you if you’re dry.”

As the water cascaded over Sam, he kept his eyes glued on Morgan’s chest. The guy turned him around again, and a moment later, strong hands glided over Sam’s naked body. Morgan took his time soaping Sam’s shoulders, moving lower and lower, working in gentle circles, like he was molding Sam’s body instead of washing it.

When Morgan reached his ass, Sam bit back a whimper. The guy was very thorough. The cloth skated between Sam’s cheeks, and his cock jerked at the intimate contact as the cloth glided over his hole.

Sam gritted his teeth and closed his eyes, praying he didn’t orgasm. Then Morgan washed the back of Sam’s legs.

“Turn,” Morgan said, and Sam was positive the guy’s voice was much deeper and a bit strained.

Blowing out a breath, Sam turned, letting the spray wash away the soap from the back of his body. Morgan started at Sam’s shoulders but avoided eye contact.

Good. Sam didn’t need to look into those brown depths as Morgan’s hands tortured him. The guy lifted Sam’s arms one at a time, washing them, then drew the cloth over Sam’s chest and stomach.

Things went sideways when Morgan knelt and washed between Sam’s legs. He couldn’t stop his cock from hardening no matter how much he wanted to. His erection was right in Morgan’s face, yet the guy didn’t say a word as he swirled the soapy cloth around Sam’s shaft.

Either Morgan was straight—and no straight man on earth would wash another guy’s dick—or he had no sexual interest in Sam. He was laser-focused on his task, no sign that he was turned on.

Sam looked toward the ceiling, wishing a hole would open him up and swallow him. Fuck. He needed to stop thinking of anything being swallowed right now.

“How’s your back?” Morgan asked. “Are you feeling any pain?”

Sam was, but the pain wasn’t in his back. It was pulsing between his legs. He simply shook his head, not daring to look down at Morgan’s wet body.

“We’re almost done. You’re doing great, Sam.”

The guy needed to stop saying Sam’s name with that bedroom voice. It wasn’t helping Sam’s crisis.

“Hold my shoulders so I can get your feet.”

Sam had to look so he knew where to place his hands. Big mistake. Morgan was staring up at him, water glistening in his hair and all over his body. He was every gay man’s fantasy, and Sam’s body was coiled so tight that any second he was going to come in Morgan’s face.

As badly as Sam wanted to, he couldn’t rip his gaze away. It was as if Morgan held him in a trance. Sam’s lips parted as his fingers dug into Morgan’s shoulders.

“I’m trying so fucking hard not to go back on my word, Sam. I don’t want you to think I lied to you, but your cock is in my face, and it’s killing me not to do anything about it.”

Sam swallowed roughly. “Like w-what?”

“Can I show you?”

His breath shallow, Sam nodded.

Morgan rose to his feet, turned Sam until his back was against his chest, and then dropped the cloth. He curled his soapy hand around Sam’s hard cock, making him whimper.

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