The Spiral Down (The Fall Up #2)

This time, I followed the direction of his finger as he pointed down at my erection, which was still throbbing between my legs.

“Oh,” I breathed, but little homemade paper banners dropped in my mind. They all read: O-motherfucking-h.

“No fucking me,” he reminded.

The celebratory banners in my head rolled back up.

I nodded and waved him off. “No. I understand. Don’t worry about…that.”

He tilted his head and leveled me with a don’t-be-a-dumbass glare.

I quickly corrected. “I mean…uh… Worry about it, then.”

That.

Fucking.

Lip.

Twitch.

He bent down, removing his jeans and his boxer briefs from around his ankles, and then unfolded from the couch. “Shower,” he grunted as he strode past me.

I blatantly ogled his round ass as he padded away.

Shower? I’m sorry. Say what?

Was that an invitation or an informative statement of his activity?

I blinked at the bedroom door when I heard the faucet squeak and the water begin falling. Was I supposed to follow him? It was going to be awkward as hell if I strolled up on him, offering to wash his unreachables, only for him to kick me out.

On the other hand, I sure as shit didn’t want to miss the opportunity of a lifetime for him to take care of “that” in the shower if that was what he meant.

I was torn. Caught between an embarrassing rock and a soapy hand job.

“Hurry up and get your ass in here. I need to get to bed. I have a plane to fly tomorrow,” he shouted.

Oh.

My.

God.

I didn’t say that though.

What I did do was jump to my feet and sprint my ass to that shower.




The moment I rounded the corner and entered the bathroom, our bodies collided. Evan roughly took my mouth in a scorching kiss while dragging me into the shower. Water rained down on our faces, to the point that it was difficult to breathe, but I was willing to drown before I’d break that kiss.

His hands roamed freely over my chest and my shoulders, exploring every curve before drifting down to my ass. Fire shot down my back when he gripped both cheeks and pulled them slightly apart before massaging them back together. A deep rumble rolled from his throat.

In a flash, his hands were gone, and so was his mouth.

I reached for his hip, desperate to keep the momentum going, but he shook his head, which forced me to still.

Don’t stop now. Please not fucking now.

“Evan,” I whispered, cautiously lifting a hand to the back of his neck. “Stop overthinking it.”

He stared blankly. But he didn’t move away, so I pressed my luck.

Dropping my other hand between us, I found his thickening cock. Breath hissed from between his teeth when I gently stroked down his length and back again.

His eyes fluttered closed and his head lolled on his shoulders. “Christ, that feels good, Henry.”

Eyes closed.

Still Henry.

My cheeks heated, and a bashful smile played at my lips.

“I’m glad, Evan,” I murmured, placing a soft kiss at the base of his neck.

His head swayed to the side, and I traced the corded muscles with my tongue. His dick jumped in my hand when I grazed my teeth over his earlobe.

A shuddered, “Fuck,” was his only response.

My eyes drifted down in fascination when his hips began to pump into my hand. Every curl deliciously flexed his abs. It was quite possibly the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.

“You are…” I breathed, glancing up long enough to see that his blue eyes had opened and were locked on me.

“I’m what?”

Everything. Perfection. Mine?

“Gorgeous.”

He stared for a minute, his expression unreadable.

Until.

My back hit the cool tile wall before I could process what the hell had happened, and then he was on me. Every inch of his hard body aligned with mine. I jerked my hand away as our cocks became trapped between us. His demanding mouth covered mine, rendering me immobile and pinning me from head to heel against the shower wall.

His hands rested on either side of my head as his tongue skillfully glided into my mouth. In one smooth movement, he rolled his hips, giving me my first taste of glorious friction. Our moans echoed in a harmony. It wasn’t going to take but a few more before I erupted between us.

“Fist your cock,” he ordered.

It was an outstanding idea, and I eagerly obeyed. I managed to squeeze a hand between our bodies, but I didn’t just grab my own shaft. Opening my hand wide, I pulled us both into my grip. His smooth flesh slid against mine and he cursed in my ear when I started working us together.

My hand squeezed on the upstroke, occasionally twisting so my palm grazed over the sensitive tops of our crowns.

We both kept our heads tilted down, watching intently, our heavy pants mingling.

“Two hands are better,” I suggested.

But, when he didn’t take the bait, I added my other hand into the mix, enabling me to close the circle around both of our cocks.

“Oh, fuck,” he cried nearly immediately.

I wasn’t far behind him in that sentiment.