Page 14 of Coming to Grips
Why Chase is agreeing. Even though nerves are still making his pulse hum, he wants a massage, heaven help him. It’s his own physical reaction he fears. He’ll just have to think about something that’s sure to counter the provocative connotations of the whole situation. Like what though? He searches his mind for something bound to derail any sort of arousal. Horse shit and hobbits come to mind. Yeah, that ought to keep his body in check. Horse shit smells disgusting, and he shovels enough of it that he can imagine the odor easily, and hobbits have always freaked him out a little bit. Big feet covered in hair is just gross. He shivers in his head.
“Hey?”
“Hm? Yeah.” He blinks back to reality and finds Kyle peering at him curiously.
“Go ahead and get cleaned up. Holler when you’re ready.”
Chase debates leaving his boxers on, but that would be odd, so he strips down to his birthday suit and starts the shower without fuss despite the tremor in his good hand. The muscles in his shoulders and upper arms protest loudly after his therapy session. The hot water pounds the back of his neck and his shoulders, and, man, it feels good. But as much as he wants to stand there, Kyle’s waiting for him to get clean, and how much better is a massage going to feel?
Washing takes all of five minutes, as does shampooing his hair. He pushes open the shower door and calls Kyle. He hears Kyle’s muffled reply and ducks back under the shower, feeling light-headed and cotton-mouthed all of a sudden.
Is Kyle gonna be naked or is he going to leave on his underwear like he’d done the first time? Chase isn’t sure which he hopes for more. Undies on because the whole situation is still weird, undies off to put them on equal footing.
“Coming in,” says Kyle.
The shower door clicks shut and, Kyle’s presence behind him makes him tremble with nerves.
“Scoot forward. I’m gonna have a quick wash since I’m in here and then we’ll do you.”
Chase coughs as his thirteen-year-old mind swan dives into the gutter.
“You know what I mean,” Kyle says and hisses. “Shit, man, this hot enough?”
“Um. Yeah?” Chase braces his good arm against the cold tile wall and rests his head on his forearm and waits.
“Don’t turn around, okay? I’m dropping my drawers to wash myself.”
Jesus Christ, does he have to make the situation harder than it has to be?
Oh, God. Now Chase is doing it. Chase chokes back a snort. As for Kyle—of course he does. On the other hand, he’s being his usual self, so maybe he isn’t doing anything on purpose.
“Okay, back under the water with you.”
Kyle’s hands clasp onto Chase’s hips. A zing from the point of contact radiates outward in all directions. His dick twitches, and he sucks in a moist draught of air and releases it slowly.Horse shit and hobbits.
“We should look for some shower gel that you really like the scent of—like aromatherapy and a massage all rolled into one.”
Chase just nods. He’s pretty fond of the smell of Kyle’s shower gel, although he’s not feeling very relaxed right now. So maybe something that has no association with Kyle is a good idea.
The pop cap of the bottle of shower gel echoes off the tile, followed by the raspberry of air as Kyle squeezes the liquid into his palm. Kyle slicks his hands together and the sound is suggestive.
Chase stabs his teeth into his bottom lip. What the hell did he do to deserve this singular brand of torture?
Kyle’s thumbs dig into the knotted flesh of his shoulders and Chase bites back another groan. Every nerve ending starts sparking, and he tenses up. Oh, holy hell, his dick pulses. Just what he doesn’t need. A freakin’ hard-on.
“Chill out, dude. It’s a massage. It’s not going to do you any good if you stay so stiff.”
Chase blows out a breath and forces his muscles to go slack. If only he had that much control over his dick.Horse shit and hobbits. Horse shit and hobbits. Horse shit and hobbits.
Dammit. Not working.
Ten, fifteen minutes pass as Kyle kneads Chase’s neck, his shoulders, even his triceps and biceps in both arms. Chase’s arousal grows, and even Kyle’s hands on his injured elbow and paralyzed forearm don’t seem to make a damned bit of difference.
“How’s that feel?” Kyle asks.
“Uh...” Chase chokes onfantasticand says, “Good. Great. Thanks.” And if his voice has gone gruff, he’ll deny it.
“Stay under the hot water till it runs out. I’m gonna go get dressed.”
