Page 34 of Love Set Free

“Oh.” The first one is soft and short, but Phoenix’s second sound of understanding is long and drawn out, “Oooooh…” and his eyes finally flick up to meet mine. “I see. Hmm.” Thankfully, he doesn’t comment on, or seem to judge me for, wallowing in my filth for half a day longer than I needed to and how I brought that filth into a nice, clean bed with me. “Now that I think about it, a shower does sound like an excellent idea,” he states. The crooked smile he makes is impossibly charming. “I seem to have made a bit of a mess of my clothes. And if I’m going to be getting naked to change my clothes, I may as well take another shower while I’m at it. I don’t suppose, in the interest of water conservation—"

“You can go first,” I interrupt, and I’m immediately angry with myself at the way the Phoenix’s eyes shutter and the flirtatiousness falls away from his expression. It was a knee-jerk reaction, though. Showering near another man, in the locker room at school or after a workout at the gym, is one thing. But to share a shower, to be in such close, forced proximity with another man, both of us naked…

“Sure. Yeah. Of course.” Phoenix sounds pleasant enough, but I can tell that he’s back to assuming that I didn’t want, and didn’t enjoy, having him dry humping against me until he came. “I suppose it only makes sense,” he adds. “I just need a quick rinse off and you… You’re going to want to spend a considerably much longer time in the shower.”

“Yes. Exactly.” I jump on the excuse he offered, since it sounds reasonable and puts a better spin on things than that I’d had a momentary freak out over being naked with him. “And I need to shave all this grossness off my face,” I add, scratching my fingers along the edge of the itchy, sporadic patches of an almost-beard. “It’s been quite a while since I’ve been able to get my hands on a razor.”

I have a feeling that the only thing that will convince Phoenix that I really didn’t mind what just happened between us in this bed, really and truly convince him, is to let it happen again. That, or something similar. Some sort of sexual…something. I’ll just have to wait for that situation to come around and then maybe my willingness would make him believe.

In the meantime…

“Your parents, or somebody, left plenty of new clothes here for me. You can borrow something from the pile on the dresser if you don’t want to wander, naked or in only a towel, across the hall to your room to fetch some of your own clothing to change into.”

It’s instinct that has me leaning in close to Phoenix and softly brushing my lips against his. His dark eyes are wide and startled as I pull back from the brief kiss. Ourfirstkiss, discounting the sweet kisses Phoenix dropped against my hair.

“Sounds good. And while you’re showering, I can…I can…” His reply continues our conversation, but I’m not entirely sure Phoenix even knows what he’s saying. His eyes frantically search my face, while his hand drifts up to hover a few inches away from his mouth. From what I can tell, it seems like his mind is more on the kiss I just gave him than on the topic of our separate showers. “Um… I can order us room service?”

Something tells me that instances of Phoenix being flustered and on uneven ground are few and far between. So, I’m going to enjoy this one for all it’s worth. And maybe do what I can to prolong it.

Besides, he really is so very sweet.

“Hmm.” It doesn’t take much for me to close the distance between us again and I drag my lips over his in another kiss. “If you wouldn’t mind… Dunno what time it is, but I imagine you can get them to make whatever you ask them to make. Don’t suppose you could get ’em to make me a whole heap of pancakes, could you? Plenty of syrup. And some bacon? A whole pig’s worth of bacon.”

It’ll probably make me sick; my stomach won’t be used to that kind of food anymore. Or any kind of food, really, not in the large amounts the hotel kitchen would probably send up. Not for a while. But, oh, would it ever be worth it.

That second kiss does exactly what I want it to, keeping Phoenix adorably befuddled.

“Sure. Yes. If that’s… Um. If that’s what you want then, yes. Yes. That’s what I’ll order for you. Uh. After my shower, that is.”

When Phoenix makes no move to actually get up and head for his shower, I gently nudge his shoulder to get the ball rolling.Plus I really want that room service breakfast now. Just because he’s planning on swapping his current shirt out for a different one doesn’t mean I want to chance leaving dirt smudges on it. Knowing my luck, it would leave a permanent stain that Phoenix wouldn’t be able to wash out.

“You wanna go take that shower now, Phee?”

I have just enough time to see a pink flush sweep into his cheeks, and then Phoenix is quickly scrambling off his side of the bed and disappearing into the bathroom. I barely even get a glimpse of the dark damp patch on the front of his khaki shorts, the evidence of his coming in his pants, before he’s behind a closed door and out of sight. But it’s enough of a glimpse to leave me feeling pretty happy with myself. I did that. Me. Jackson Delacroix. I gave Phoenix enough pleasure that he lost control and was left with a load of cum filling his pants.

I might still feel grimier than I’ve ever before felt in my life, and the odor of my own body might be enough to make my eyes water, but good goddamn, I am feeling really pretty fucking content right about now.

I can’t actually hear the sound of the shower being turned on, not through how thick the hotel room’s bathroom door is. But I have no doubt that Phoenix is getting into the shower right about now. So, I turn onto my back, on top of this ridiculously cushy bed, tuck my hands behind my head, and cheerfully settle in to wait for my own turn at the shower. And for whatever is going to happen next.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Jackson

It’s one thing to have the vague knowledge that lots and lots of money can get you whatever you want. It’s a whole other thing to actually see it happening before your very eyes.

After our stomach-busting breakfast, Phoenix and I meet up with his parents and they whisk us back to the U.S. consulate. A lack of a priorly made appointment had kept us from seeing the Consul yesterday but, apparently, her schedule magically opened up for Mr. and Mrs. Wilding, with the understanding that she would see us whenever we got there.

I clearly recall how long of a process it was to get my passport—the one that I used to get into Brazil and is only God knows where now. I’d gotten it the summer after I graduated high school in anticipation of a road trip to Mexico that I never actually wound up taking. So, imagine my surprise when the Consul cheerfully informs us that our paperwork will be processed as soon as Phoenix and I fill it out and she will have an emergency passport ready for both of us by the end of the business day.

Whether that’s a typical turnaround time on that sort of thing or not, none of the Wildings seem as astounded as I am. They don’t even appear all that impressed when the Consul states that she’ll even keep the Consul open later than usual if she needs to in order to ensure that we get the temporary passports today.

I’m doing my utmost to not draw any attention to myself as we sit in the large, spacious, and sleekly decorated office. I’m feeling out of my depth, and I know the only reason things are going smoothly and quickly is because I’ve been swept along in the current of getting Phoenix home. If it wasn’t for him including me in all the plans, I’d still be stuck loitering in the lobby. Assuming the consulate didn’t boot my butt out the door, because then I’d just be a lost bum plonked down on the sidewalk with no clear idea of how I’d get myself out of this mess.

“Yes. Well, thank you for your admirable assistance,” Mr. Wilding says to the Consul. “As I’m sure you can imagine, we just want to get our son home as soon as possible.”

Mrs. Wilding rests her hand on her husband’s arm, a silent show of being a united front. “I know I won’t feel completely relieved until I get my Phoenix home, so I can fuss over and spoil him. Have him with me so I can reassure myself that he’s safe and sound again.”

Of the four chairs situated in front of the Consul’s desk, Phoenix and his parents are sitting in a neat line, front and center. Meanwhile, I’d sneakily shifted my chair so that it’s further back and partially behind Phoenix’s. After his mother’s comment, Phoenix twists in his chair so he can look over his shoulder at me, then he makes a comedically horrified face and mouths the words, “Oh, hell no.”

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