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He pulled back and stripped off his clothes and we gazed at each other for a moment. Love for this beautiful, wonderful man filled me, dissolving the enormous guilt built up in my heart. He smiled warmly and tucked a lock of hair behind my ear. I put my arms around his neck and kissed him deeply.
He stuck his hand in the shower to feel the water, then scooped me up, making me laugh again as he stepped us inside. It was heaven - the water was warm, his hands were soft, his lips enticing. The water streamed off his beautiful, tanned body and I relaxed into the rightness of being with him. It felt natural and easy and good, and for just a few moments, I let myself enjoy him with no guilt, no feelings of betrayal.
I ran my fingers back through his dark hair, making sure it was completely soaked through. He smiled and closed his equally dark eyes. I grabbed our cheap all-in-one shampoo and massaged it into his hair as he sighed happily. He spun me around and moved out of the way of the warm water, so he could do the same for me. I giggled and relaxed into his amazing fingers. He rinsed out my hair, kissing my forehead in the process, and then rinsed out his own while I kissed his chest and grabbed the bar soap.
While he rinsed, I rubbed every area of his chest and abdomen with the soap, the bubbles trailing down his body suggestively. I bit my lip watching those bubbles slide down his thighs and he smiled, taking the soap from my hand and putting it back on the shelf. Then he pulled me tight to him, the soap on his body transferring to mine. He used his hands to make sure every square inch of my flesh was coated in suds, lingering on my breasts and my rigid nipples before moving around to my backside. I gasped when his hand moved between my thighs.
He smiled at me so seductively, that my breath sped instantly. His lips parted as he watched my reaction to his fingers circling around my most sensitive flesh, before dipping inside me. I groaned and arched my back against him as he inserted first one, then a second finger, moving languidly inside of me for a few heavenly moments before pulling back along my wet skin teasingly. I nearly whimpered and sucked on his bottom lip as he removed his hand and carefully pushed me back against the shower wall. The water surged around us, most deflecting off his broad back, so that only a light mist sprayed on me. His body pressed firmly against mine, the soap still lingering between us making him slippery against my skin. He bent to kiss me deeply and I eagerly returned it, moaning into his mouth.
The hard length of him pressed up against my body and I tentatively reached down to curl my fingers around him. He let out a groan in my ear as my hand squeezed around the base of him. I stroked my hand up and down his thickness a few times, while he panted heavily in my ear. His chest rising and falling against mine, he suddenly lifted me up against the wall slightly and then slid himself perfectly into me. He was so strong that the move was effortless for him, and surprising comfortable for me. I groaned loudly with the pleasure of it, as my legs wrapped around him, pulling him even deeper inside me.
My hands moved up to grasp his neck as he used his hands to urge my hips into a euphoric rhythm against his. My head drifted into a pleasant fog as Denny became my entire world - every smell, every touch, every breath, and every movement. It was intoxicating and beautiful and heartwarming. . . and maybe, if at that moment I allowed myself to feel it, a little sad.
Within moments, his breath increased to a quick pant and he clenched my hips satisfactorily with a deep groan as he came. He never stopped his rhythm though, and moments later I arched against him and cried out as the intenseness ripped through me. We both caught our breaths as the water started to cool along with us, and then he gently lowered me and moved aside so the tepid water could wash away any remaining bubbles between us.
"I love you," he said, as he shut the water off.
He stepped out of the shower and handed me a towel to dry off with. I smiled warmly at him as I stepped out of the shower to stand next to him on the fuzzy bath rug. "I love you too. "
He helped dry me off a little with his towel, making me giggle, and then he dried himself off and we left our cozy, steamy little bathroom to finish getting him ready for work. It wasn't too much later that Denny, dressed in his khaki slacks and blue button-up shirt (he did look amazing in blue) with still slightly damp hair that, of course, he let me style for him, and me, in my basic jeans and blouse, my hair also damp and combed through, which Denny lovingly did for me, made our way back down to the kitchen.
Kellan was finally downstairs, drinking his coffee and looking casually perfect, if a little pale. Denny nodded to him, smiling happily. "G'Day, mate. "
Kellan, although wan, managed an effortlessly casual smile. "Mornin'. . . mate. "
Denny kissed me one last time, cupping my cheek. "Now I am going to be late. " He grinned at me suggestively, making me blush horribly. "You're worth it though," he whispered.
I glanced over at Kellan. He paled a little more, studiously drinking his coffee now, and I knew that he knew what that meant. Maybe he'd even heard us in the shower. I couldn't remember if I was quiet or not. . . probably not. Denny gave me a final hug, cheerily said goodbye, and then left for work. I stood, rather stupidly, in the middle of the room, unsure of what to do.
"I put your coffee in the microwave," Kellan whispered from the table. I looked over to his pale face, his soft eyes. "It was cold. . . " he finished.
I swallowed the lump in my throat and went over to the microwave, starting it for one minute. I turned back to Kellan while it reheated. "Kellan. . . I'm-"
"Don't," he interrupted softly, staring blankly into his cup.
I blinked. "But. . . "
He stood up and walked over to me. He stopped a ways from me and didn't touch me. "You don't owe me an explanation. . . " he looked at the floor, "and you definitely don't owe me an apology," he looked back up at me, "so just. . . . don't say anything, please. "
Guilt and sympathy for him washed through me, and I held my arms open for him. "Come here. " He hesitated a moment, a torn look on his face, then he slipped his arms around my waist and buried his head in my neck. I held him tight and rubbed his back. "I'm sorry," I whispered in his ear. He may not want to hear it, but I needed to say it.
He exhaled softly and nodded in my shoulder, clutching me a little tighter.
He was still pale and a little quiet when he drove me to school. Guilt surged through me. It had bothered him. I wasn't sure why, I wasn't sure what I was to him, but he had told me it would bother him, and it did seem to, and I did feel bad about that. But I wasn't his. We were just friends. . . and Denny was my boyfriend and it was going to happen again. I watched his silent face as we drove the short distance to school. I hoped he wasn't hurt too badly.
He walked me to class again and seemed to perk up on the way there. He wanted to discuss my Lit class, and had some amusing theories on Austen's view of society. . . most of them linked with my earlier Psych lesson on sexual repression. This time, I was laughing pretty hard by the time he opened the door to the room, and I'm pretty sure my face was bright red.
I decided to skip out on Psych class. I know, not the best idea, but I was anxious to get home and spend a little free time with Kellan before work, and it was more on Freud, which I just couldn't take today. When I walked through the door, I saw Kellan playing his guitar on the couch. The song was beautiful, and I smiled at him warmly as he looked over and gave me a look that quickened my heart. He stopped playing and started to set down his guitar.
"No, don't stop," I said as I walked over to sit beside him. "It's beautiful. "
He looked down, smiling softly, and then shook his head slightly. He put the guitar on my lap instead. "Here. . . try again. "
I grimaced, the last time he had tried to teach me, I had been atrocious. "It's beautiful when you play it. Something seems to happen to it when I try. "
He laughed and twisted me on the couch, so that he could put his arms behind me and his hands over mine. "You just need to hold it right," he whispered in
my ear. His breath sent a shiver down my spine and I closed my eyes for a second, inhaling his scent deeply, while he adjusted our fingers on the guitar.
"Okay. . . hey. " He nudged my shoulder with a short laugh when he noticed that my eyes were closed. Embarrassed, I blushed and opened my eyes and he laughed again. "Here. . . your fingers are perfect, right under mine. " He lightly held my fingers in an awkward position on the neck of the guitar. "Now," he showed me the pick in his other hand, "lightly strum it like this. . . " He did it once, the guitar humming beautifully.
He placed the pick lightly in my fingers and I tried to copy his move. The sound was not a beautiful hum, it wasn't beautiful at all. He laughed and grabbed my hand, basically doing the strumming for me. With him doing all of the work, the guitar was once again, beautiful. He idly moved our fingers across the neck, while strumming our locked hands together on the body, playing a simple rhythm. Eventually, I picked up the feel for it and relaxed into him.
He smiled and gazed at me, still playing for us without even looking. "This really isn't so hard. I learned this one when I was six. " He winked at me and I blushed again.
"Well. . . you're just more talented with your fingers. " I blurted out, momentarily distracted by his easy smile.
He stopped playing and laughed. I rolled my eyes and laughed with him. "You have such a dirty mind. You and Griffin are a lot alike. " I blushed again.
He grimaced, then laughed again. "I can't help it if I think that way around you. " He gazed at me intently and then took his hands off the guitar. "You try. "
I put my hands back where they had been and tried again to strum like he did. Amazingly, after the third or fourth time, it sounded okay and looking back at him I giggled. He smiled and nodded, then he showed me a different chord, and after a few tries I managed to make that one sound sort of decent. After quite a bit of fumbled attempts, I could finally sort-of play the song he had learned when he was just a boy. I played for awhile, him adjusting my fingers every now and then or showing me a new chord when I finally got one down.
Eventually, I sagged against him and flexed my hand. He laughed and put the guitar on the ground, pulling me back into his chest and grabbing my hand to massage it. I was careful not to make any noises to distract him. It was heaven.
"You have to build up the strength for it," he murmured, as he rubbed out my aching fingers.
"Hmmmm. . . " I closed my eyes, enjoying the closeness of him.
Eventually he stopped and held me against him. I felt like I could stay there all night, warm in his arms. "Can we try something?" he asked quietly.
I stiffened automatically in his embrace, and turned to look back at him smiling softly at me. "What?" I asked cautiously.
He laughed at my reluctance. "It's innocent. . . I promise. "
He abruptly lied back on the couch and held his arms out to me. I looked at him, confused, and then snuggled into his shoulder, nestling into the space between him and the couch. He sighed happily and wrapped his arms around me, stroking my arm lightly.
I pulled back and looked at him, still confused. "This is what you wanted to do?"
He shrugged. "Yeah, it looked. . . nice when you did this with Denny. . . "
I nodded and laid my head on his chest, fighting back the sudden guilt at the mention of Denny's name, and at the simple affection that Kellan wanted from me. I carefully put a leg over his and an arm over his chest. He sighed again and leaned his head against mine. His heartbeat was steady and strong. I felt like mine was all over the place.
"Is this okay with you?" he whispered into my hair.
I forced myself to relax. This simplicity was all he wanted, and I was enjoying his closeness. "Yeah. . . it's nice. Are you okay?" I absentmindedly traced a circle on his chest.
He chuckled softly. "I'm fine, Kiera. " He gently rubbed my back.
I sighed and truly relaxed, clutching him tighter with my arm and my leg. He pulled me tighter in response and we simply held each other. I watched his shirt rise and fall with his even breathing. I gazed at the skin of his neck. I watched his throat move when he swallowed. I lingered over the near right angle at the corner of his strong jaw. Finally, I closed my eyes and nestled into his neck, letting the warmth of his presence wash over me.