Page 51 of Gin & Sin

He grins. “Then we better get clean.”

“Good call. Then I can spend the day getting you dirty again.”

I cross the bathroom and use the panel on the wall to start the double shower.

“Seriously?” Stewart says, studying the various buttons.

“Lowen saw these showers in Japan and couldn’t wait for the opportunity to install them. I admit it’s fucking nice. I was never a guy who thought a lot about the shower process, but I look forward to it now. There’s massaging jets that hit from calves to neck and the rain shower head feels like pure luxury.”

“What a treat.”

He steps inside and I follow, watching how his face lights up as he steps under the stream.

“How’s the temp?”

“Perfect.”

Watching water flow over him, making his hair curlier, clinging to the hair on his body and his soft curves as it makes its way down to the floor is a visual treat I didn’t know I needed.

“Fuck, you’re hot.”

He snaps his eyes open, dragging his hand over his face to remove the water. “Are you serious?”

I nod, stepping closer and wrapping my arm around his waist, pulling him close enough that our cocks bump together. “I’m serious, Stewart. You do it for me.”

“Thanks.” He runs his hands over my pecs, squeezing gently. “I’m honestly not sure anyone has ever called me hot, but I believe you. At least I want to.”

“I want you to believe me too.”

I’m torn between kissing him, bending him over, and spilling my guts. Fucking weird. To give myself something to do besides obsessing over my thoughts, I grab the body wash and start rubbing soapy hands over Stewart’s skin. He opens his hands for me to pour some into them and rubs them over my chest.

“I can’t tell you how many times I fantasized about touching a man with hair on his chest,” he says. “It’s way better than I thought.”

“Yeah?”

“All of it is.” He nibbles his bottom lip. “It’s the difference between a mass-produced dessert from the frozen section and a handmade treat from an artisan baker. Both are good, but one is miles better.”

I gently lift his chin. “It’s kind of fun reliving all of this through you.”

“Is it the same for you? Men and women, I mean. Is that okay to ask?”

“It’s okay to ask.” I ponder his question for a second. No one’s ever asked. “Uh, no, not the same. At this point in my life I can honestly say I’m more viscerally attracted to men. I love masculinity in all its forms. When I was younger, I was pretty equal. There are many things to like about the female body, but these days, it’s more sporadic. A woman has to be unique to get my attention.”

“Unique in what sense?” he asks, swirling his fingers around my nipples. “Looks?”

“Nah. I have a broad type when it comes to looks. She has to have something in her personality that snags me. It can be a spark of humor or a glimmer in her eye while we wait in the coffee line. I love a snarky woman who has no issue taking me down a peg or two. I might pursue in those cases.”

“But men?”

“Like I said, it’s visceral. Primal. Like when I laid eyes on you, I knew immediately I wanted to taste your kiss.”

“Based on my…looks?”

“It was a vibe. Yes, your face is incredible, but it was the energy you gave off that lured me in.”

“Your definition sounds demisexual in one way, but your sex drive doesn’t fit.”

I chuckle. “I’m not demi. I’m a slut who loves bodies in all the forms they come in. But I’m a guy who, after forty years, the majority of those in the dating scene, needs more than just a pretty face to get off.”

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