Page 69 of Grave Misgivings
I work up a lather over my chest, which is always somewhat of a feat because the suds always multiply between my coarse hair and it takes forever to rinse, but I don’t mind the extra time, or the hair in general.
It beats having to shave and trim my entire chest and torso every two days, too.
I run my hands over my chest, down my stomach, until I settle at my semi-erect cock.
I know it’s early, and he’s passed the fuck out, so I don’t feel as guilty about taking care of myself because there isn’t any real threat of being discovered.
I close my eyes, tipping my head back as I let the water run down my skin, lazily stroking my cock. I let my mind wander to the previous night, to thatkiss.
Fuck, I can’t remember the last time Ikisseda guy and got so worked up.
But Geo isn’t justany guy.
His hand on my thigh, so dangerously close to my fucking erection, was more of a turn on than I want to admit.
A part of me wanted to shift so I could feel his hand on my aching cock, while the sensible part of me was terrified he’d find my fucking swollen cock and freak the fuck out.
It’s one thing to kiss a guy, but it’s another thing completely to touch his solid dick,knowingfull wellyouare the reason for it.
My thoughts travel down that fantastical road, thinking about Geo touchingmydick. Stroking it with his perfect, masculine fingers through my pants while driving that wicked tongue into my mouth.
“Fucking hell,” I curse under my breath as I come. I pump out the remaining bits of my cum, letting out a sigh of relief as I clean myself up.
I step out of the shower, drying off quickly, catching my reflection in the mirror. With my towel wrapped around my waist, I push open the door, head for my bedroom, glancing at Geo’s door.
It’s popped back open again, and I stop for a moment, panic flooding me.
I push the door open slightly, if only to settle my anxiety. Sure enough, Geo’s still sprawled out on the bed, in the same lifeless position as he was before.
“Get a hold of yourself, Zeb,” I mumble as I turn for my bedroom.
I change into a pair of comfortable sweatpants, grab my phone and earbuds, and head for the kitchen to set about my morning the same way I always do.
Lady Gaga serenades my ears as I open my fridge, grabbing fresh eggs, cheese, vegetables, and, of course, bacon.
I settle into the motions, humming and singing along while I crack and whisk my eggs.
I can’t resist moving to the beat, because honestly, who can?
Lady Gaga is a fucking legend.
I sing about monstrous men eating my fucking heart as I fire up the stove. The flame rises as I croon out the lyrics, getting into the crunchy beats. The eggs sizzle in the pan and I watch as the golden liquid spreads throughout the pan. I rotate the pan by moving my wrist, watching as it covers all the open spots.
The smell of coffee permeates the air and I work on flipping my omelet as the drop comes. I flip it and catch it with ease, spinning around to grab my mug of coffee, and I stop dead in my tracks.
Geo leans against my refrigerator, those delicious arms crossed in front of his bare, tattooed chest. His dark hair sticks out in disarray, but it isn’t a bad look on him. Coupled with his gray sweatpants, and his thick, tortoise shellglasses, he looks...
Perfect.
Fucking perfect.
I take my earbuds out, immediately tensing.
“Did I wake you up? Fuck, I’m sorry. I?—”
He shrugs, letting out a chuckle. “Oh no, don’t let me stop you. Please, continue.”
I move for the pan, realizing if I don’t grab my omelet, it’s going to fucking burn.
