Page 58 of Inferno

“It’s a pain, but I like it.”

“It’s beautiful. I’ve never grown my hair long.”

“Most guys haven’t. Yours is a beautiful color, you could grow it if you liked.”

He shakes his head. “I don’t think it would suit me. Do you ever leave yours down?”

“Not often,” I tell him, relaxing into his touch.

His hands move reverently, coating the long tresses in shampoo and taking care to work the suds all the way to my scalp. When he drops his hands to his sides, I move under the shower spray, and instead of letting the water do all the work, heruns his hand through my hair, making sure all of the shampoo is gone.

He does the same with the conditioner, being so careful and meticulous that by the time all of the conditioner is out of my hair, I want to take him straight to the courthouse and make him officially mine.

Everything about him entices me. His innocence is endearingly sweet. He’s a beautiful soul and I want to own him in every sense of the word, but that’s why I can’t—because I won’t allow myself to consume his purity and make it into something ugly.

Taking my time and allowing him any space feels painfully hard, but for him, I’ll do it. I have to.

I hand him a towel once we both step out of the shower, and he wraps it around himself, his cheeks pink like he’s suddenly become shy. Not commenting or pointing out that he had my dick in his mouth a few minutes ago, I surreptitiously watch him from the corner of my eye while I pretend to allow him some privacy. Once he’s completely mine, I won’t let him hide himself from me, but for now, I’ll allow him the illusion of modesty.

Rubbing the water from my own body, I throw the towel into the hamper and stride naked into the bedroom. Flopping down onto the bed, I ignore my semi-hard dick as it bounces against my thigh. I don’t have a monster cock, but it’s above average, thick, and I’d like to think fairly pretty. It curves slightly to the right, but so far no one has had any complaints.

“Why don’t you take a look at the things I got for you?” I suggest, tipping my chin toward the pile of bags that are littering the end of the bed.

“I…” His eyes go haunted, and I wonder what he just remembered that has put that look in his eyes. Growing up in foster care must have been tough, but some of the families hestayed with must have been good people…right? I mean, not everyone is bad…are they?

When Henry doesn’t move to touch any of the bags, I shuffle to the end of the bed, pick a bag at random, and hold it out to him. “Here, start with this one.”

Tentatively he reaches to take it from me, and his eyes go wide when he peers inside. “What?”

“I can’t remember what’s in that one,” I admit. “What is it?”

“Underwear. But this brand is expensive,” he says, lifting out a box of Calvin Klein boxers.

“I’m old school, and they are crazy comfortable. I promise you’ll never want to wear any other brand once you try them.”

His expression is dubious, his shoulders tense, so I push forward, grabbing another bag and shoving it toward him. “Here, this one next.”

This time when he slowly opens the bag, his entire expression softens. “You bought me pajamas?”

“You looked fucking adorable in the ones you wore last night. So, I got you a couple of new pairs. They’re so soft.”

“You don’t think it’s weird that I wear them?” he asks, a fresh surge of heat pooling in his cheeks.

“I’m not sure how long you’ll keep them on.” I chuckle softly. “But I want you to be comfortable, and I think it’s cute.”

Bag after bag, his expression sways between touched, embarrassed, and confused. By the time he pulls the soft cashmere sweaters from the last bag, the end of the bed is piled high with the things I brought him today.

“This is too much,” he whispers.

“Agree to disagree. Try everything on to see if it fits.”

“You have to let me pay you back for all of this.”

Grinding my teeth, I let him see my displeasure. “We already talked about this. If I want to buy you things, I will, and you’ll let me.”

“I’m sorry,” he blurts.

“Forgiven. Now try everything on.” I force my voice to take on an upbeat tone because I don’t want to scare him or do anything that would destroy the intimacy I’m trying to build between us.

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