I fumbled with the keys once again at the door to the apartment, but the door swung open without me having to do a thing.
“Get in here,” Silas ordered through my surprise.
I went, dropping the grocery bags in the entranceway once I passed over the threshold.
“Shit, it’s pouring out there,” I gasped.
Silas snorted.
“Got here before the rain…guess it’s good we’re at your place so you’ll be able to change clothes…after,” Silas said.
I blinked, but not because of the water that was pouring from my hair into my eyes, but from surprise.
“What?” I asked.
He smiled, and I shivered.
“Cold?” He asked, taking a step forward and divesting me of the rest of my bags.
I nodded.
I was cold.
But it wasn’t the cold that made me shiver, it was the smooth sound of his luxuriously deep voice and the way it seemed to slither down my spine.
“What’d you get?” He asked, placing the bags on the counter and looking through them
“Beer and stuff for spaghetti,” I answered going to the bags and putting the meat away and handing him two bottles of beer.
Spaghetti was easy and filling, but also something I could have for the rest of the week for lunch.
Or would have been…had the power not went out twenty seconds later.
“At least the beer is cold,” Silas said.
I heard the distinct sound of the cap being pried off my non-twist-off capped beers and blinked into the darkness.
“What’d you just open that with?” I asked, stunned.
Suddenly I felt the cool, sweating bottle of beer pressed against my arm, and Silas’ deep, rumbly voice close to my ear saying “My hands.”
I swallowed, taking the beer from him that was still touching my arm.
“Thanks,” I said.
Then, as an afterthought, I said, “There’s a bottle opener hanging next to the sink.”
Silas laughed. “Got it.”
Then he took off the cap of the second beer.
“Let’s go take a shower,” he rumbled.
I jumped, turning to face where I’d heard his voice.
“You scared me,” I said. “And I can’t. You just opened my beer. If I get in the shower, it’ll get warm.”
“So bring it with you,” he said, taking a hold of my arm and pulling me in his wake.
“How do you know where to go?” I asked as I followed him. “And how are you missing all the things on my floor?”
He didn’t answer.
My hand felt dwarfed in his, convulsing slightly when he said, “Take your clothes off.”
I felt around for a flat surface, finding what I thought was the bathroom counter, but couldn’t tell, and set the beer down.
Then I took my clothes off, as demanded.
The shirt came off easily, followed shortly by my bra.
But when I went to hook my fingers into the waistband of my jeans to drag them off, I froze when I felt the warm, wet mouth close around my erect nipple.
I hissed in a breath when Silas’ beer bottle pressed against my back, making me push into him to escape the icy coldness of it.
He chuckled when I clutched at his head.
“Silas,” I moaned. “It’s cold!”
He left me then.
Pulling away from my breast with a soft ‘pop’, he turned the shower on.
I missed his presence immediately, audibly whimpering, causing him to chuckle darkly.
I started on my pants in the interim, pulling them with difficulty down my legs, and letting them pool at my feet.
I used my feet to step on the hem on either side, pulling my legs free of the restrictive, wet denim.
When I pushed my panties down, I felt Silas’ hands find a home on each of my hips, while his unclothed cock pressed up against the seam of my ass.
“Grab your beer,” he commanded.
I did.
The moment I had it solidly in my hands, I was lifted free of the floor and placed in the shower where the deliciously warm water started to seep over my chest and neck.
It flowed down my body in warm waves, and I held my beer up and away from the spray as, behind me, Silas’ hands started to run down my sides.
He was washing me as well as keeping his body against mine to keep me warm.
“How was your day?” I asked.
The question was immediately followed by a loud crack of thunder that startled me so badly, my legs nearly went out from under me.
Silas’ arm around my waist was the only thing that kept me from eating dirt…or shower tile, anyway.
The bar of soap in his hand didn’t fare the same treatment.
It fell in an echoing thud to the shower floor at my feet and came to a rest at the opposite part of the tub near the drain.
“Easy,” he said, bringing his lips to my neck.
I shivered once again as his beard ran along the cord of my neck, and his large palm, the one that wasn’t holding his beer, cupped my breast.
“That was a loud one,” I managed to squeak out.
“Mmm hmm,” he agreed, letting go of me to take a sip of his beer.
I followed suit and relished the bitter taste of the ale.
I hadn’t been a huge fan of beer until I’d discovered this particular brand.