Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 76006 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 380(@200wpm)___ 304(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76006 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 380(@200wpm)___ 304(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
Being shaved felt amazing, and getting in the shower would be even better. Emerson was quiet and intent on the task, and Rhys shut his eyes as Emerson used his fingers to position his jaw this way and that to give him a decent shave. He tried to stay still as Emerson’s face moved closer and he could feel his breath on his lips. Why the hell did it suddenly feel so intimate? Sure, he wasn’t in the habit of letting people shave his fucking face, but knowing how gentle and attentive Emerson was being…it made his stomach feel all warm and buzzy.
Emerson should definitely try and date more. He would be awesome at it. Plus, just how fucking attractive he was would be a bonus. And okay, now he was thinking too hard about how gorgeous and datable his straight best friend was.
Christ. Too much time on his hands, obviously.
He became light-headed, and his eyes sprang open just as Emerson was reaching for a towel to wipe his jaw clean. Fuck, he hoped the dizziness would eventually fade. He knew it was a residual symptom, but it also scared him and made him feel unsure of himself. What if it happened again at a critical time, like on the side of a cliff again?
Forcing the fear down, he hobbled to the tub with Emerson’s assistance.
After twisting the faucet on, Emerson carefully tugged his shirt and his sweats off. As Rhys stood there in only his gray boxer briefs, Emerson’s gaze never lingered on his skin, possibly out of respect for Rhys, but goddamn it, Rhys almost wanted him to look his fill. It would be better than this weird tension between them. “See, this is what I mean. It’s not like you’ve never seen my naked ass.”
“Not since we were teens,” Emerson said, pink streaking across his cheeks again. “Fuck, you’re right. Sorry. Maybe it’s just strange, you needing to lean on me when I’ve been leaning on you for so long.”
Well, fuck. Was that how he saw it? His stomach was all warm now.
“Nobody is keeping track here,” Rhys replied, gooseflesh lining his arms from the cool air swirling, and maybe also from the vulnerability in Emerson’s tone. Leaning toward him, Rhys added, “But I’m glad it’s you taking care of me.”
Emerson’s breath caught as he finally met Rhys’s gaze, and the look of raw affection made his skin prickle. He decided right then that he liked making Emerson feel good, and he wanted more of this—whatever this warm feeling was between them.
Emerson nodded subtly before stretching his arm beyond the shower curtain to check the water temperature. “You need help getting in there?”
“I think I just need you close by in case I slip and break my ass.”
Emerson cracked a smile but sobered quickly once Rhys pushed down his underwear and kicked out of them. He turned away, pretending to reach for a towel in the linen closet, but Rhys knew better and gave him a pass while his own pulse thrashed in his veins.
Why was his stomach feeling so strange and unsettled? Christ.
“Just let me hold on to you while I step inside.”
Emerson, staring at the far wall, stretched out his arm to anchor him. Rhys would’ve laughed if he weren’t nervous he might fall on the slippery surface.
Emerson was nothing if not cavalier. Wouldn’t it be something to see him lose control for the first time? Shit, that visual had only served to make his cock perk up. Nothing he could do about it now, and besides, it was only because he hadn’t rubbed one out in so long.
The water felt amazing as he stepped under the warm spray. “Damn, this is so good.”
He reached for the bodywash, fumbled with it, then finally got enough in his hand to swish around his body, cleaning himself the best he could. Even the container felt heavy in his fingers after another minute, which was ridiculous, and he wished he wasn’t having such a hard time. He dipped his head, letting the water cascade over his shoulders, hoping to provide his muscles relief.
Shit, his ribs were killing him.
“You okay?” Emerson asked in a cautious tone.
“I will be.” His breath rushed from his lips in a shallow pant as he propped his hand against the wall. “Fuck, it hurts.”
“Let me help you.” Emerson’s voice was soft and warm as he reached for the shampoo. Soon his hands were in his hair and massaging his scalp, and it was so incredible, he moaned, wishing it would never end. He felt Emerson tense briefly before redoubling his efforts with the same vigor, yet also with a gentleness that could only come from their shared connection. The fact that Emerson was doing this for him… Hell, he didn’t know how to feel. Here he was, naked and vulnerable, and damn, he didn’t think he could trust anyone else’s hands on him like this. Never like this. His eyes suddenly pricked with tears, but he swallowed them down. He was being overly emotional, and he needed to cut it out. It was only a shower, for Christ’s sake.