Page 34 of Nothing To Lose
"I'm going to take a shower," I say pointedly. "I might need some assistance. You know, for safety."
"For safety," he huffs, but he follows when I turn and walk into the bathroom.
The mirrors and tile are still steamed up from Isaac's shower when I walk in, pulling the tank top over my head and tossing it towards the laundry basket. When I know he's walked in and can see me, I push my underwear down my thighs and step out of them. Feigning a confidence I most definitely do not have, I walk towards the showers casually, overly aware of his eyes on me. I've never exposed myself fully to someone like this, and I'd be lying if I didn't admit it’s daunting, but when I turn on the water and step beneath the spray, I turn around to find Isaac's eyes locked on mine. There's a brief moment of worry that he’s not looking down at my body because he doesn't like what he sees, but when I zero in on his expression, there's definitely heat in his dark gaze. Heat and worry.
I glance down at myself, at my shaft that's erect and pointed directly at Isaac, then back at him. Pouring body wash onto a washcloth, I keep my eyes on him as I soap my body.
"I'm not an invalid anymore, you know. It's okay to look. I want you to."
His gaze holds mine for another long moment before flicking down, then back up, then down again. His lips part, eyes glued to my hand that's wrapped around my cock, slowly working the soap up and down my shaft. His pink tongue darts out to wet his lips, one hand moving to press against his own erection. I want him to pull it out, to show me something I've only seen on a screen before. I also desperately want him to touch me, but I know he won't. I can tell by the way he's leaning back on the counter, feet planted, one hand gripping the edge like it will keep him tethered.
Pathetically, I want him to lose control because it feels like proof he might actually want me for real. That all of this isn't something he's doing out of pity.
"Really? That guy?" Scoff. "I doubt you'd be his type, anyway."
"The body of a twelve-year-old-girl."
"You're pathetic."
"Even he has limits."
I drop my cock and press my palms into my eyes, turning around to hide any evidence that I'm this close to losing my shit.Keeping my face turned towards the showerhead, I put one hand on the wall and lean into the spray. Who am I kidding? I'm not this guy. I know what I look like. And I’m sure I'm coming off as ridiculous and pathetic, trying so hard to get his attention.
For all my false bravado, I just want to feel in control of this one moment, right here, right now.
His touch makes me flinch, but only for a second. When his strong hands wrap around my waist and pull me into him, I turn and go willingly. He hugs me close, not saying a word, just letting me soak in his support and comfort. Water cascades over both of us, soaking his sweatpants until they're so heavy they start to slip down his hips. The base of his cock, and the wiry dark hair there, peek above the waistband. There's too much water in my eyes and the fabric is too soaked for me to tell if he's still hard. Probably not.
My lips move over his shoulder, light caresses that I hope he feels the way I do. Bone deep, raw want radiates through me, my fledging erection coming back to life. Maybe he does pity me. Maybe this is another example of him being a good Samaritan. And maybe when he's done with me, I'll be alone again. But for now…
"I need–" I say breathily, not sure how to complete that statement. There's so much that I want. That I need. Most of all I need to get out of my head and just feel something.
He nods, kissing along my jawline. “I know, baby. I know.” Wet fabric plops on the floor.
I don't look. I can't. My lips are glued to his.
When he lifts me and wraps my legs around his body, I feel him. Hot and heavy, pressing against my aching cock, both of us trapped between our stomachs. I want to move, to rub my cock up and down his shaft. I squirm as he leans me back, his hips and the wall holding me up. I look down between us as he wraps one big hand around both of us. I shudder in his hold as a rush of pure sensation overtakes me, a dizzying heat that starts at the base of my spine and explodes outward.
No one has ever touched my cock before, aside from me, of course. But now it looks like it belongs to him, pressed against his like they're meant to be a pair. I'm transfixed by the sight of the heads of our cocks emerging from his hand, then disappearing as he strokes us together. My breaths grow shallow, and my head reels back as that intangible heat engulfs me. My vision blurs.
I come pathetically fast with a choked whine that echoes off the tile. Isaac's hand doesn't stop, jerking me through every spurt of my orgasm. It coats his hand and his cock, his strokes speeding up, hips rocking into his grip. I'm panting with each pass of his palm over my oversensitive head, my cum dripping down our shafts, lubricating his grip while he pumps himself to climax. Wanting to be an active participant, wanting to give as much as I take, and wanting to know what he feels like, I reach to wrap my hand around us. He releases his grip, one hand hitting the tile to prop us up. My hand isn't as big as his, but I focus on his cock, trying to mimic the strokes that brought me to my end, moaning at the way my slick hand glides over his shaft.
Isaac grunts, head falling onto my shoulder. Hot cum erupts from his tip, splashing on my chest and stomach. Making him come is just as heady as my own orgasm. My mouth is parted, soft gasps falling from my lips as I continue to stroke him. He lifts his head and takes my mouth, kissing me through his pleasure. We kiss until the heat of the showers is too stifling and I think I might collapse.
After rinsing the mess away, Isaac carries me to his bedroom. The moment my head hits the pillows, I'm out.
10
ISAAC
As tempted as I am to curl up with Tyler and let sleep take me, I need a moment to breathe. To think. To process.
The way he was acting, as sexy as it was, threw me off. It was a front, an attempt at bravado that I indulged, not just because it was hot, but because I want him to actually feel that confident. He should feel that confident. He's beautiful. Smart. Sexy. And he has a big cock for a smaller guy.Seriously. I got a pretty good idea of what he's packing when I helped him shower that first day, but I was pointedly trying not to look. It was impossible to ignore, but I put it out of my head. Every time he's gotten hard and rubbed against me, I felt the evidence. But seeing it in all its glory, wrapping my hand around it and making him come, feeling the way it thickened even more in my fist?Holy fuck.
He's the whole package, and he doesn't even realize it.
I saw the moment the bravado left him. The moment his eyes shuddered and the bad thoughts filtered in. The way his body deflated and curled in on itself before he turned and hid from me.
Was letting him use the connection between us as a distraction the right thing to do? I don't know. It's probably not healthy, and I worry that it'll bite me in the ass later. It's not that I mind being a distraction. I can't complain about the perks. The deeper we get into this relationship, if that's what it is, the harder it's going to be to hold back. I won’t say no if he needs me, but I want this thing we have to be about pleasure and joy. I want it to be about him reclaiming his sense of self, not because he wants to run from his problems.
