Page 209 of Fragments
“I’m not forgetting about this!” I call after him. But he’s just smirking as he wanders away, like the sweetest, sexiest little devil around. “I could easily withhold sex, ya know! Lexington?! Are you listening to me??”
I can hear him chuckling.
“Goddamnit,” I huff, pacing and rubbing my eyes while I mutter to myself, “Like he’d ever believeyoucould withhold sex…”
Realistically, this little makeout session with Dash isn’t a big deal. I had to accept what happened between him and Byron, and that was much more intense than a few minutes of kissing while Dash didn’t even know who he was.
Lex deserves understanding from me, especially after everything I’ve put him through. In fact, he deserves a whole lot more than that.
Mulling this over, I plop down on my bed, grabbing my tattoo gun. I take out some ink and dunk the needle, carving lines onto a spot on my chest, right above my heart.
It’ll have to do for now…Until I can get him the real thing.
There’s a secret spot where I stash my shower products. Makes things easier than always having to locate stuff when they show up to bring us for showers, especially since a lot of times they’re really rushing us along.
Sure, someone else could find it and use it. Maybe they have…Because this bottle of body wash is feeling pretty damn light.
I’m frowning as I squirt some into my hands, then pass it to Lex.
“Why do you look pissed?” he asks. “Are you suddenly opposed to sharing?”
“No, it’s just… I don’t know when I’ll be able to get more,” I mumble, lathering up under the stream of water. “This stupid lockdown, ya know?”
I used to be able to get things much easier…When I was actively fucking everyone and their fathers.
Lex is watching me, I can feel it. My gaze slides over to meet his, and he looks away.
“I don’t know… you’ve been managing well enough begging Velle and Joy for stuff,” he says quietly, hands gliding over his scalp, through the inch-or-so of light blonde hair on his head.
The water sends suds running down his muscles. My eyes follow them, a jolt hitting me in the dick. I love seeing the ink I put on his skin… The scars I’ve made on him.
He’s still perfect, but this place has definitely changed him, in both ways that are visible, and those that aren’t. A lot of it is my fault, I know that. But the rest has to do with being caged for so long.
I wonder if he’d even remember how to run free…
Would I?
Would we even know what to do with ourselves outside of here?
Such thoughts have been plaguing me more and more recently, since Dash got out and started calling us. I never used to wonder what it would be like to be back in the real world. But lately, it’s all I can think about.
I show Lex a small smile while my hands run over my chest, down my abs. “You’re right. I’m sure I can sweet-talk them into getting me some products.” My fingers continue down, his eyes creeping over to watch as they crawl over my semi-hard cock, onto my balls. “Gotta keep it nice and fresh, right? My sexy little green-eyed tease.”
I wink at him, and he rolls his eyes, though he’s visibly flushing, and as hard as he tries, he can’t keep his eyes off what I’m doing.
Washing the dick, washing the balls, washing the ass… Washing washing washing.
In theory, cleaning your undercarriage isn’t supposed to behot. It’s hygiene. But when you’re doing it next to the guy you love, the guy you’ve been hopelessly infatuated with for years, and theonlyperson you’re allowing yourself to sleep with, the act of massaging soap onto your nuts and between your ass cheeks can quickly becoming arousing as fuck.
Because of this, we’re taking much longer to shower than usual. Everyone else is already getting dressed while we’re still standing side by side, with water flowing over our bodies. Chests heaving breaths of desire, eyes locked to convey all manners of pent-up need.
It’s been a few weeks since the last time we were able to sneak off and bang out this tension real quick. Despite being on Velle’s good side, it doesn’t mean he’s going to let us do whatever we want. Sometimes Joy will look the other way when I pull Lex into my cell to makeout a little. Last week, I begged Rook to bring us back from dinner five minutes early, and we jerked each other off in the row, with the clock ticking.
Not exactlyromantic, but it’s all we have…
Stealing little moments in a place that isn’t built for budding relationships.
I can’t complain, because evenone secondwith Lexington touching me or smiling at me is more than enough. But when I think about doing thisforever, and never really getting to explore how itcouldbe between us, I’m filled with frustration. Not only sexual—though that’s a big part of it now that I’m learning to live without constant orgasms from miscellaneous people—but also just a sudden resentment for where we are, with all its limitations.
