“Shove down all the hurt I know you feel and try to shoulder mine, too.”
He half smiled. “Shouldering yours makes mine feel lighter.”
“About what he said to you…” I began.
Trent shook his head. “Forget it. You don’t owe me an apology. His actions aren’t yours.”
“He was an asshole.”
“Yeah, he was.”
I smiled. “Maybe I will take that shower.”
Our tickets were in the pocket of his duffle, and he went for them. At the same time, I pulled out some fresh clothes from mine. Before I was even in the bathroom, he was already dialing the airline to see about changing our flight.
For a standard hotel, the water pressure was actually pretty good. I turned the temp a little hotter than usual because my body was understandably tense. I stood underneath the spray, letting it pelt me, and goose bumps rose along my arms because it felt so good.
I tried not to think about my parents. Doing so wouldn’t change anything. But it was hard to just move on and let it roll off my back. Especially when I felt so betrayed. It would take some time, time for me to maybe make sense of how they reacted.
No.
I would never be able to make sense of what they said. But maybe I would learn to accept it, accept them for who they were, even if they couldn’t accept me for who I was.
I grabbed the tiny bottle of shampoo and dumped some in my palm to scrub my hair. The suds were rinsing down my body when I heard T enter the bathroom.
“Tickets are changed. There was a fee, but I paid it.”
I grunted. Good. It was better we got home early anyway. At least Trent wouldn’t be in the car half the night while we drove home after picking up my car, and he’d actually get a decent night’s sleep before having to be in class Monday morning.
And shit, I had to go to work.
I didn’t think it was possible, but I hated that place even more now.
“What do you want to eat?” he asked. “Besides fries.”
I smiled, and water ran in my mouth. “Forget food. Get your ass in here.”
The curtain was yanked back, and T stood there naked as the day he was born. “Thought you’d never ask.”
I laughed. It felt good. Even after everything, it seemed okay to laugh with him.
We took turns washing each other’s bodies, which turned out to be a very good distraction from the thoughts trying to take over my mind. Even though his body was hard and strong and the soap clung to all the contours, it was his eyes I kept going back to. The lashes were wet, so they appeared darker than normal. The hazel looked more like deep, liquid gold, and when he looked at me, all the tightness in my limbs didn’t feel so tight.
Water droplets clung to his lips and made me thirsty, so occasionally, I’d lean forward and suck the moisture across my tongue. Trent’s back was under the water, but he wrapped his arms around me and spun so it was me beneath the spray.
“Turn around,” he instructed, so I did, and his wide hands settled over my shoulders and began to massage the knotted muscles there.
I groaned and slapped a hand against the shower wall, leaning in a little and succumbing to the intoxicating feel of his massage. His fingers worked expertly, like they automatically knew exactly where to spend the most time. When his hand closed around the back of my neck and squeezed, I moaned.
He kept kneading the muscles, using his strength to work out the worst of the stress. As he did, my body became languid and more relaxed. The sound of the water falling from the showerhead and the feel of it rushing over my head and coating his fingers as he worked gave me a freaking hard-on.
I swayed a little, and one arm came around my waist to tug me back against his body, giving me some support.
He was hard, too. His stiff cock pressed right against my ass, and I shivered.
“Had enough?” he asked, still working the side of my neck with one hand.
“Not nearly,” I groaned.
Trent turned us so we faced the back of the shower, the wall that was the longest. He put both my hands up on the tile so I could support myself and then went back to massaging, working his hands down my back and up again to my shoulders.
His hips stayed close, though. His rock-hard rod rubbed against my ass and hip. I found myself arching in to it, wanting to feel more, anticipating his slick, smooth head against my skin.
His massage turned a little deeper, and his hips started rocking against me in a gentle thrusting motion. Breath hissed between his teeth, and I smiled secretly. Slowly, his hands worked down to my waist and dipped to my front.
His hand latched onto my dick and jacked me lightly.
“Time to get out,” I rasped.
He gave my head a little squeeze and then shut off the water. My head felt a little foggy and my body was relaxed—yet stimulated—so before I knew it, Trent was wrapping a white towel around my shoulders and roughly drying off my chest and arms.