Page 50 of Protecting the Nerd

How was I supposed to let York out of my sight after hearing this? For all I knew, those men could be literally around the corner. But as much as I wanted to watch York twenty-four-seven, I couldn’t. I needed sleep, though not a lot, and I had my personal needs too. Time to work out, for example. York and I had made a deal that while I worked out, he’d stay in his office and not set foot outside that room. He’d sworn to obey me, and by now, I trusted him to take his safety seriously.

Another need I had—an even more personal one—was to jerk off. I had always tried to treat the act as something normal, not anything to be ashamed of, but that didn’t mean I wanted to discuss it with others, least of all with York. Since I had zero privacy other than in the shower, I used that time to get clean and take care of business. I was nothing if not efficient.

When I wanted to tell York I was gonna take a shower—Coulson had called at the end of my workout—he was engrossed in his work, and no way was I disturbing him for something so trivial, so I left him to it and went upstairs. I had my own bathroom, connected to the bedroom I was staying in, though I had yet to sleep in the bed and always parked myself in front of York’s door. Did he even realize? If so, he had never commented on it.

The thing was that I liked the main bathroom—connected to York’s bedroom—a lot more than the guest bathroom. Not only was the shower far more spacious, but it also had a powerful massage showerhead I loved. So, I often used that shower. Also something I wasn’t sure York knew. The man seemed to pay little attention to small details. The nitty-gritty of everyday living was far outside his radar.

I walked into his bathroom and turned the shower on. In the time it took for the water to heat up, I undressed and dropped my clothes on the floor so I could grab them easily in case I needed them. For the same reason, I left both the bathroom door and the glass sliding door of the shower stall open. The running water would drown out most noise, but it was better than nothing, even if I only did it to make myself feel better.

When I stepped under the spray, the water was at the perfect temperature: blistering hot. I quickly washed my hair, then efficiently soaped my body. With that done, I squeezed a little conditioner into my hand. As soon as I touched myself and closed my eyes, York’s image popped into my brain, as it had done every time I jerked off.

His shy smile. The deep frown on his forehead when he was working. The way he looked at me without actually seeing me, his brain obviously miles away. But when he did focus… Oh, sweet baby Jesus, those gorgeous brown puppy eyes, all trained on me… My belly fluttered every single time.

He was so effortlessly sexy. Not in a traditional way. Over the years, I’d met a lot of hot guys and hooked up with plenty of them, but most of them had known they were attractive. York didn’t. Every day, he wore the same style of old-fashioned suspenders with a white button-down shirt and black slacks. Even his socks were the same every day. He was so wonderfully predictive, yet his brain was so unique and fascinating. I could never predict what would come out of the man’s mouth.

His mouth… That sweet, sweet mouth I had kissed way too long ago for far too short. If only he knew how badly I wanted to kiss him again. How much I longed to hold him, to touch him, to show him all the things I felt for him.

How would he be as a lover? Would he be as intense as he did everything else? He’d do research for his first time with a guy, and then he’d nail it—pun intended. The man never failed at anything he set his mind to. He would probably let me control the pace, and what a picture that thought conjured: his body under mine, my mouth devouring his, our tongues tangling.

He had patience, so he wouldn’t rush things in bed either. We could kiss for hours, drive each other crazy. I’d explore every inch of his body, map all his angles and valleys, discover where he was sensitive, what turned him on. I’d show him how good a blowjob could be. Fuck, I’d show him heaven and then do it all over again.

Although I was vers, I preferred to top, but with York, I could see that change. He’d be determined to make it good for me. He’d take his time to prep me. What would his cock look like? I didn’t care much about length, but I loved girth. That extra sting was so worth it. And if I was lucky, he’d have a bit of a curve, so he’d hit my pleasure spot full-on when he fucked me.

As I pictured all this, my brain imagining all kinds of scenarios, I wrapped my hand firmly around my dick and pumped fast and furious. I loved taking my time, but I didn’t have that luxury now. Quick was the keyword, so I squeezed hard and corkscrewed at the top, going faster and faster.

My climax was approaching, and my body tensed in anticipation. I opened my eyes. Had I heard or felt something? Maybe the slight disturbance of the air had reached me, but when I looked up, York stood there frozen to the spot, watching me, his mouth open as wide as his eyes.

Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

And, of course, my cock, my treacherous cock, decided that an audience was what it needed to fly over the edge. The sight of York’s eyes glued to my dick did it for me, and I came with a muffled grunt, spraying over my hand. I was powerless to stop it, riding out my orgasm almost against my will. When it was done, I stood panting, my hand still wrapped around my cock.

And York stood there, still watching. My cock didn’t flag a little bit. Of course it didn’t. Nope, it fucking liked York’s attention and returned to full mast, eager for round two—preferably with York in a more active role.

I clenched my teeth as I fought to let go of myself, rinse off my hand, and shut the water off. “Can I help you?” I asked, proud of how normal my voice had sounded.

York licked his lips—Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, was he trying to drive me crazy?—then he raised his eyes and met mine. His cheeks grew a fiery red, something I hadn’t seen happen before. “Sorry, I was…”

“…enjoying the show?”

“…wondering where you were.”

“The sound of the shower didn’t give you an idea?”

“It should have,” he said sheepishly. “But I wanted to tell you something, and it didn’t occur to me that the water running meant you were…”

“Naked? Yeah, that’s usually the case. Though me jerking off was an unexpected bonus, I bet.”

“Yeah.” He swallowed. “Sorry?”

“I hate to point out the obvious, but you’re still standing there.”

And so was my cock, unrelentingly hard, but I wasn’t gonna draw attention to that.

“I thought you were done?”

A chuckle escaped. “I was, yes, in more ways than one. So you’re planning on watching me towel off and get dressed?”

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