Brad met his eyes, a smirk curving his lips. “Yeah? You want to see my bed?”
Ian gulped. He couldn’t help looking over Brad, where he’d loosened the top of his shirt. Brad’s pecs were inviting. Beneath Ian, his thighs were strong, solid.
“C’mon, we’re done with the bills,” Brad said. “Time for a shower. Then bed.”
Ian squawked when Brad scooped him into his arms. “Brad!”
“This is faster,” Brad said. He carried Ian out of the study, stopping by the laundry room.
Brad set Ian on his feet. The washer had stopped, so Brad threw Gwen’s PJs into the dryer, and turned it on.
Then he knocked on Gwen’s door, poking his head in. “Hey, Gwen. I’ve just put your PJs in the dryer—when it stops, go ahead and grab them from the dryer, okay? But only after it stops.”
“Okay,” Gwen said.
Brad scooped Ian back into his arms, heading into the master bedroom. He deposited Ian on the bed. Turned on the light, and shut the door.
“Should I lock it?” Brad asked.
Ian’s pants grew tight. There wasn’t anything Gwen shouldn’t see, except for Brad fucking him into the bed. “M-maybe after the shower,” Ian breathed.
“That works,” Brad growled. He pulled his belt open, and Ian’s hole squeezed.
Then he winced, because he hadn’t allowed Brad to see all of him in bright light. “I should shower by myself.”
Brad thought over his answer. Then he nodded Ian toward the ensuite bathroom, so Ian could go first. “You need help? You were tired.”
“I’ll manage.”
Ian climbed off the bed, trudging to the bathroom. He shut the door. Left it unlocked, just in case. Then he shrugged out of his clothes as best as he could, and stepped into the tub.
He was still exhausted, though. The moment the shower came on, its warmth seeped into his body, and his strength left him. Ian stood beneath the hot spray, waiting as the water pattered onto his head.
He closed his eyes. Dozed off.
Ian lurched sideways, losing his balance. In the split second when his heart clenched and he panicked, he flailed, crashing into the bathroom wall. Pain jolted through his shoulder.
The bathroom door slammed open, and Ian jumped.
“You okay?” Brad asked, his voice rough with worry. Then he yanked aside the shower curtain, raking his eyes down Ian’s body.
Ian stopped breathing. He backed away and turned, hiding himself beneath the shower spray, closing his hands over the rings of scars on his upper arms. Couldn’t do anything about his thighs.
“Hey,” Brad said. “Ian.” He stepped over to the nearer end of the shower curtain, drawing it open. Then he shut off the shower, and turned Ian toward him.
Ian grimaced. “Don’t look.”
“I don’t care about the scars,” Brad muttered. “Are you hurt?”
Ian shook his head. Brad slid his hands down Ian’s shoulders, squeezing gently. Then he ran his palms down Ian’s arms, checking his joints, his bones. Ian swallowed hard. He wanted to hide away—he wasn’t that much to look at.
Instead, Brad pulled him into a hug. “You scared me. What happened?”
“I nodded off. I was tired.”
Brad swore. “C’mon, let’s get you showered, and then we’ll sleep.”
“But…” Ian wanted the sex. He’d been looking forward to spending time in Brad’s bed, tangling with him. It wasn’t fair that his body wanted to pull him under, and force him to sleep instead.
“But what?” Brad murmured.
Ian blushed, looking away. He was naked in Brad’s arms, the dampness on his body soaking into Brad’s clothes. “I wanted to stay up for longer.”
“Any particular reason?”
“You?”
Brad snorted, but he cracked a smile. “Okay if I shower with you?” Ian gripped his arms tighter, and Brad pressed a kiss to the corner of Ian’s lips. “I know about the scars. I’ve seen them, remember?”
“Not like this, you haven’t.”
“I’m still here. I’ve told you to text me if you feel like adding another line to that.”
Brad kissed down Ian’s jaw, his neck, and down his shoulder. He nuzzled Ian’s fingers, pressing kisses to them, too.
“I can’t believe you’re doing this,” Ian said.
“Well, believe it.” Brad met his eyes. “I’m showering with you. And then we’re going to sleep.”
“But I wanted—” Ian bit his words off.
“You wanted what?”
His stomach flipping, Ian whispered, “I wanted you to fuck me.”
Brad’s eyes darkened. “Here?”
“In bed. I’ve never…” Ian sighed. “It’s been a while.”
Brad growled. Then he released Ian, shrugging out of his clothes. “We’ll do that. Then we’ll sleep.”
And now Ian was hard, and Brad hadn’t even stepped into the bathtub yet.
14
Ian
The space in the tub seemed a lot more cramped with Brad’s broad shoulders, his strong body. Ian couldn’t help staring at him.
The few times they’d fucked, it had been surreptitious, Ian bent over desks, or Brad between his legs in complete darkness. This was different. Brad could see all of him now. It made Ian feel vulnerable, and he wasn’t sure how to deal with Brad’s gaze raking down his skin, Brad’s cock growing thick.
“You want me,” Ian croaked.
“What’s it look like?” Brad pumped his cock. “Not every day I hear you begging to be fucked.”
Ian groaned. He leaned into Brad, his body taut. Brad reached for the soap. He lathered up his hands, then cupped Ian’s face, stroking along the shell of his ears. Then he massaged down Ian’s neck, his hands steady. Ian’s eyelids fluttered shut.
“Don’t you fall asleep on me,” Brad growled.
“I won’t,” Ian whispered.
Brad pressed him against the cool tile of the bathroom wall. He dragged his palms down Ian’s chest, soaping up his underarms, then down to his fingertips. He brushed his thumbs across Ian’s nipples, and pleasure tingled down Ian’s nerves.
“So sensitive,” Brad murmured, washing down Ian’s sides. He crouched, circling Ian’s thigh with his hands, rubbing down his entire leg. Then he repeated it with Ian’s other leg, his fingers dragging firm along Ian’s tired muscles. Ian groaned, sagging into the wall.
“Good?” Brad asked.
“Gods, yes.”
Brad ran his fingers between Ian’s toes. Then he reached up, his palms lingering on Ian’s belly. He dipped his thumb into Ian’s navel, then
