Page 18 of A Little More Hope

Finally, unencumbered, I did a quick check of the water, now deliciously hot, and stepped into the shower and straight under the spray, the surrounding heat making me groan loudly from sheer pleasure.

Chapter Seven

Mason

After getting the shower going and leaving him in the bathroom, I’d hurried across into my bedroom to grab some towels from the closet. Tucking them to my chest, I made a quick detour down the hallway to increase the heating in the house, the colder weather having given the place a slight chill, and I wouldn’t want Ash to get pneumonia.

I reentered the bedroom with the intention of handing the towels over to him before he’d gotten undressed but nearing the bathroom door I caught his reflection, and stopped dead when his naked torso filled my vision. I honestly hadn’t meant to look, but once I’d caught a glimpse, my eyes refused to look away from the lean form of Ash’s body reflected in the wide mirror above the double vanity. The bright can lights in the ceiling showed off every single dip and curve with startling clarity as he struggled to remove his wet clothes.

I’d seen all manner of men in the gym locker rooms, dressed and undressed, and barely gave them more than a passing glance, but absolutely nothing had prepared me for the sight of Ash’s taut muscles shifting under smooth tanned skin as he fought his way out of his sweater and T-shirt, his shoulder blades stretched tight as he hauled the clothes over his head and dropped them unceremoniously on the floor.

My hungry gaze ate up his broad shoulders, the way his back narrowed to his slim waist. His body not overly muscular, the absence of bulk only enhancing his physique rather than detracting from it. Toned triceps rippled as he moved his hands to the waistband of his jeans, the play of sinew as they shifted with his movements causing my heart to thud heavily in my chest while imagining his arms moving the exact same way when he jerked himself off. The valley along the length of his spine tempted me with how he might taste as I licked a path all the way up to the top of his neck, enjoying his appreciative moans as I did so.

He was mesmerizing, and my cock agreed, my length pushing painfully against soaking wet, restrictive denim.

He continued to wrestle with his jeans, his fingers fumbling at the fly. He gave a frustrated snarl and yanked hard, snapping the top button open, the rest rapidly following a second later.

As he pushed them over his hips, I should have done the decent thing and turned away, giving him privacy, but I couldn’t have even if I’d wanted to, so transfixed watching the wet denim slide down over the curve of his ass.

He bent and pushed his clothes all the way down his defined legs, the few dark hairs covering them, wet and clinging to his skin. I nearly swallowed my tongue as his ass-cheeks spread open, allowing me to briefly see his slightly darker, puckered hole.

My cock jerked hard in my pants, wanting inside. Blood pounded in my ears as my eyes devoured his tight pink entrance, easily picturing the head of my dick pressed against his crease, my hips canting forward when breaching him. His needy moans loud and desperate as I slid into his gorgeous ass. The pressure became almost unbearable as I pushed the heel of my palm against the painful bulge in my briefs, desperately trying to alleviate the ache looking at him caused, but only succeeding in sending my need higher, forcing me to release a long low groan.

“Mase?” Ash asked, “You there?”

Tensing on the spot, panic gripped me. I hoped like hell he wouldn’t come into the bedroom to investigate what he’d heard and discover me perving on him. The seconds dragged by until he shrugged to himself and continued working on removing the remainder of his clothes before standing tall.

He was naked. In my house. Naked.

Unable to stop from giving him another long, slow perusal, my gaze automatically stopped on his ass, committing it to memory, not expecting to ever get the chance to look at him again. Gabe had continually extolled the virtues of a bubble butt, and I’d always thought he was nuts, often telling him he had an ass fixation for the number of times he mentioned it.

But I took every one of those words back as I stared at the most beautiful bubble butt ever created, which truly was the only description for the vision before me. High and firm, yet so soft and smooth-looking. And the curve, like a juicy round peach, had my mouth drooling to take a bite and my hands aching to touch, demanding to feel the weight of the two perfect globes as they filled my palms.

Ash disappeared from view, presumably to step into the shower, and a moment later, when he emitted a deep contented groan, the sound traveled straight to my balls. I imagined him dripping wet, the hot water sliding over his cold skin hardening his nipples to two pert buds. Visualizing the spray cascading down his spine and into the crease of his spectacular ass had me suppressing another groan. And the mere thought of him soaping himself up and using the same bodywash I used, smelling of me, made me hot all over.

Fuck, I’d never been this turned on in my life.

I needed to get out of there, away from him scrubbing his body to seriously examine the alien thoughts running through my head. Closing the remaining distance to the bathroom, I pushed my arm through the partially open door and dumped the towels on the vanity.

“Towels,” I growled and not waiting for an answer, spun on my heels, escaping to the other bedroom across the hall, slamming the door behind me and turning the lock for good measure, though who I was protecting I had no clue.

All these feelings I had for another man were wrong. No, I immediately corrected my thinking, not wrong, and if I’d had even the slightest inkling in that direction, Ethan, Gabe, and Ty would have beaten ten rounds of crap out of me, prior to firing me from the company, partner or not.

No, not wrong. Never wrong. But not me.

I’d never looked twice at another man my whole life and never wanted to. My friends were attractive men, but not once did I ever look at them in any way other than platonic. We were as close as brothers, and I’d never consider doing anything sexual with them.

Flopping down on the bed, I grabbed the throw at the end and draped it around my bare shoulders, the heat in my body Ash had generated when I’d stood there gawping at him, now rapidly dissipating with him no longer in my line of sight.

I rapidly sifted through my memories and any interactions with other men, but not once did I recall being attracted to a member of the same sex.

Not a single time.

So what the fuck was going on?

Maybe this shift in view was due to what’d happened to me in New York? Maybe the bullet in my head had affected my brain in some way, altered my perceptions, my ideals, or how I processed this new view of my life?

It was total bullshit of course, and I knew it, as the real reason was all down to Ash.

---