Page 53 of Hard to Forgive

“Was,” I answered. “Then I saw you wet and naked, and suddenly, I’m much more awake.”

“Maybe I just need to wear you out again,” he teased.

I didn’t get a chance to make a sarcastic reply. He grabbed my wrist and pulled me up close to him before he kissed me. It was all tongue, hotter than the water on my back. I was grateful for the size of the shower as we kissed, my hands exploring his wet body. I heard him put down the bottle of body wash behind him before his hands were on my ass, kneading my cheeks and pulling me in closer so that our dicks brushed against each others.

He controlled the pressure, the friction, every part of me. I loved when he took control and made my thoughts just stop. If only I could bottle this feeling. It would be handy on those days when my anti-anxiety medications didn’t seem to work quite as well. He groaned against my lips as we ground our cocks together. It wasn’t enough friction for me.

I brought my hand down between our bodies, dragging my finger down his chest until I reached our cocks, circling both of them in my hand and jerking. He pulled away from the kiss long enough to moan out a long, drawn out “fuuuuuck” before he attacked my lips again.

The water from the shower gave us a smooth glide, and I found myself getting lost in the sensation, in the power of making him fall part the way he always did with me. I wanted to make him fall apart more. I let go of our dicks and pushed him backward until he was sitting on the bench that ran the length of theshower. Our kiss broke as he sat, and I dropped to my knees. The water cascaded over my back as I took him in my mouth.

His hands tangled in my hair as I sucked him, working his head with my tongue. Precum flooded my mouth, and I moaned around him. He tasted so good, and I wanted more. I wanted so much more, but I could have that now. The thought made me suck him harder, because I wanted him to want me back just as badly. He thrust up slightly, forcing himself deeper into my mouth.

I relaxed, taking him to the base and letting him control the speed. The noises he made were delicious, and I wanted to make him cum. He pulled me off of him before I got that far.

“Not how I want to finish,” he panted out.

“How do you want to finish?” I asked, looking up at him from where I knelt on the hard shower floor.

“Inside you.” I nodded and planted a kiss on the inside of his thigh. If that was where he wanted to finish, I wasn’t going to bitch. “Get up, so we can get cleaned up, and then I’m going to take you to bed, and make you filthy again.”

I stood up and we both showered, stealing touches and kisses. He washed my body, paying close attention to my ass crack and my dick, teasing and torturing me. I was close to begging him to fuck me right there, in the shower. It wasn’t like the first night, when we thought it was just a one night stand. I had no intentions of leaving this time, not until morning when we both left together to head to the office.

I managed to have some self-control, and soon we were both clean. He handed me a fluffy towel to dry off with as soon as we were out of the shower. I tossed it on the ground beside his when I was finished, and neither of us bothered to collect our clothes from his bathroom floor. There was something domestic about our towels and clothing lingering on his bathroom floor, something I liked more than I could admit.

We didn’t touch as we walked to the bed. I waited on him to make the first move. I don’t know what he was waiting on. We both laid down on the bed, and he looked at me with a tenderness I’d never seen in those pale gray eyes before. Not even the night before when he’d told me that he had feelings for me. I don’t think I’d ever had anyone look at me with the level of tenderness he was doing now.

When he closed the gap between us and kissed me, it was soft. When our hands began to explore, it was reverent. When he opened me up with his fingers, it was gentle. And when he finally entered me, our eyes met and that tenderness exploded into something else: adoration, admiration. I wondered if my eyes showed the same things.

He went slow at first, kissing me gently as he moved inside me. His fingers laced with mine on the mattress while his other hand gently moved over the bare skin of my thigh. It was so different than every other time we’d been together. It was less frantic, less hurried, but more intense.

Even when he sped up or changed positions to get a better angle, that intimate intensity stayed. Every time I met his eyes, I felt it deeper than I had before.

When we got close, his hand wrapped around me, and he brought me through it before filling the condom. He didn’t pull out right away. Instead, he kissed me again before he pulled out.

“That was…” I exhaled.

“Yeah,” he agreed, understanding exactly what I was trying to say. That was different. That was intense. That was amazing.

We cleaned up, and unlike on the couch, when we cuddled up together to fall asleep, it came easy and naturally. I slept better in his arms than I ever had before.

18

I woke up thenext morning to the sound of a phone ringing and Jonas climbing out of bed. I watched him through half-open eyes as he slipped into the bathroom, speaking in a harsh whisper, like he didn’t want to wake me up. My eyes drifted to the digital clock on the nightstand. It was two hours earlier than I usually woke up. The sky was still dark outside my bedroom window.

I wasn’t trying to overhear any of Jonas’s conversation, but the occasional word drifted through the closed door. whoever he was talking to seemed to be pissing him off, because his voice kept raising and then falling back down as if he remembered that he wasn’t alone. I wondered who was on the line, but I didn’t think he’d appreciate me going into the bathroom to ask.

“Goodbye,” I heard him say harshly.

I leaned up on my elbows, expecting him to come out of the bathroom. I’d ask questions then.

Except that he didn’t come out. I didn’t hear anything from the bathroom for three minutes before I decided to check on him. Iclimbed out of the bed and went to the bathroom door, knocking lightly before pushing it open.

Jonas leaned against the glass door of the shower, shoulders hunched and fists clenched tight. “Jonas?” I asked softly.

When he looked at me, his eyes were wild. He shook his head. “G-go away,” he panted at me, like he couldn’t catch his breath.

I didn’t listen. He had to know I wasn’t going to listen. Instead, I closed the space between us and reached out slowly. “I’m going to touch your shoulders,” I told him softly before I made contact. I didn’t know what else to do.

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