Page 42 of Primary Seduction
Max
The following morning, Max tried to get out of bed again. He’d tried once in the night and ended up shouting for Trent because his body had become stiff from non-movement and every tiny motion hurt. He was mortified that he couldn’t do the simple things himself. As he rolled to his side, he winced and rested a moment. When his breath returned, he pushed his arms underneath him and pushed up, trying to keep his back straight to ease the pressure on his bruised ribs. It worked a little, but he was still sweating by the time he’d gotten upright.
He was about to attempt to stand when a knock sounded and Trent walked in, shaking his head. “I told you to shout me.”
Max couldn’t say anything, breathing hard as he was so just waved a hand at him. Trent laughed. “Would you like a shower?”
Max would’ve loved a shower, but having a shower meant having Trent in there to help him, and he didn’t know if he was ready for that or not. He shook his head.
Trent raised his eyebrows. “You’re going to have to let me help you in there sooner or later,” he said.
Max closed his eyes, resigned. He may as well get this over and done with. He nodded.
“Better. Let’s get you standing. Then you can have a breather before we walk to the bathroom.” True to his words, Trent helped him every step of the way; it was slower going this time. If anything, Max needed the help more today. The bruising must have set in completely because he felt like he’d been hit by a truck.
Trent helped Max to sit on the toilet—there was no way he’d be able to stand without support—and left the room to get some towels and clothes so Max could have some privacy for a few moments. While he did, he thought about how they were going to do this. Max knew that this was a bad idea. There was no way he’d be able to keep his reaction to Trent a secret, not if Trent helped him in the shower. But he couldn’t see any other way for him to get clean—he still had dried blood on his body—and there was no way he’d be able to stand by himself for the time it would take him to wash.
Trent knocked on the bathroom door, and Max called for him to enter. Max saw Trent had changed into some swimming trunks. Fuck, he looked hot in those.
“How are you doing?” Trent asked.
“So-so,” Max replied, being honest for a change. It wasn’t like it would change the outcome.
“All right, then. Let’s get the water warming up, and then we’ll get you in.”
Max was reassured by the matter-of-fact tone Trent took. If Trent could be calm about it, then Max could be too. He hoped.
A few minutes later, Trent stood in front of him. “Come on, let’s get you in the warm water. Hopefully, it will soothe your muscles a bit.” He turned Max to face the shower and stood behind him. Max felt his hands on the waistband of his boxers, and then they were being lowered. Max closed his eyes, fighting the sensation of having someone else’s hands on him. Trent supported him as he lifted one foot, then the other and to step under the shower. Max could feel Trent’s presence behind him, but they did not touch anywhere except for where Trent’s hands held.
Trent grabbed some shampoo and began the leisurely task of cleaning Max’s hair. Max closed his eyes in bliss. He got lost in the sensations as Trent rubbed the soap across his skin. Max could hardly feel the touch, as soft as Trent’s hands were being, and he felt himself relax as the warmth of the water soothed his aches and pains.
Trent left no skin untouched except for one area. After he had washed every bit he could, Max felt Trent stand behind him, then the soap was held in front of Max.
“Here, I’ll help hold you up, and you can wash the rest,” he said in a shaky voice. Max took the soap and began to wash his cock as quickly as possible as Trent held his hips for stability. When he leaned forward slightly to reach his balls and ass, he hissed with the pain again—he’d momentarily forgotten with how much the water had helped.
He heard Trent blow out a breath. “Hold on, let’s try it this way.” Trent stepped closer, resting his front against Max’s back, and he realised Trent was hard. He was careful of where he put his hands, wrapping them around Max’s waist. “Lift your leg and rest it on the edge of the shower, you’ll be able to reach without bending.” His voice seemed matter of fact, but his fast breathing was a giveaway that he was not as calm as he sounded.
Max closed his eyes and gritted his teeth, trying to stop his reaction, which he knew was impossible. The feeling of being held, of Trent’s body flush with his back, of his covered cock resting against his lower back, made that a fight he lost. His own cock rose, and there was nowhere to hide. He quickly washed and reached to put the soap back on the shelf. As he leaned forward, his ass pressed harder against Trent, unintentionally. Maybe Trent did feel something for him. But then he remembered the reaction Trent had when Max first kissed him, so he ignored it. He could use it as a fantasy later, if needed.
“Finished?” Trent asked.
Max nodded. There was no way he could do anything about his cock now.
Trent let go of him slowly, holding his waist until Max got his balance. The warmth had relaxed him a lot but being there with Trent had worked him up. Trent reached around him to turn the shower off.
He felt Trent step out of the shower, and Max braced himself to have to face him. After a couple of minutes, he heard Trent say, “Come on, the towel’s warm.”
Max took a breath and turned, hearing Trent’s breath catch and seeing his eyes widen as he took in Max’s state. Trent stood with a towel wrapped around his waist, wet swimming trunks on top of another towel on the floor. Max held onto the side of the shower as he walked forward, careful not to move too quickly, which in turn made sure that Trent had a long look at his erect cock.
Trent cleared his throat and began to dry Max off gently. Whenever the towel brushed against his cock, he bit his lip to hold in a moan and tried to silence his intakes of breath. Once Trent had dried most of him, he stood in front of Max again and held out the towel.
“Let’s do the same as last time, I’ll hold you and you can dry.” He walked behind Max and wrapped his arms around him again, allowing Max to rest his back against Trent’s front. Trent’s towel did not stop Max from feeling Trent’s hard cock, and he sucked in a breath as he dried off, both at the feeling of Trent and at the sensitivity of his own cock as he dried it.
When he’d finished, he attempted to wrap the towel around his waist but hissed in pain. Trent took over, wrapping it around him and tucking the edge in—not an easy feat with a hard on. Once he’d done that, he grabbed another smaller towel and rubbed Max’s hair, then his own.
“I think we’re done,” Trent said.
Max didn’t say anything. He couldn’t. That was the most anyone had ever taken care of him and, regardless of his cock’s reaction to it, he tried to hold on to the feeling of being looked after. And to hide the fact that he was close to tears. He was an emotional wreck.
