Page 66 of A Minute More

When the tremors from my orgasm die down, I lean on my elbows and kiss him softly, his hands moving from the wall to my hair. His tongue moves lazily against mine, almost as if he’s savoring it, and I’ve yet to leave his body.

“You okay?” I finally manage to ask.

“So damn good,” he murmurs and then kisses me again.

When we finally come up for air, I pull out of him, watching as my mess spills out.

Simon flushes, closing his legs tightly, but I pull them apart. I smile as I look down at him.

“You look good in my mess. You look good wrecked. Want to take a bath?” I ask and Simon turns his head, closing his legs once more and shutting me out.

“No,” I say. “None of that. I’m fucking over it.”

I reach out and grab on to his chin gently and force him to look at me.

“A bath. With me. I’m not leaving. Not yet.”

He swallows roughly and then nods, letting me help him up and into the bathroom. The tub is small, meaning we’ll have to sit on top of each other, which is fine by me. I’ll be as close to Simon as he’ll let me. As the water fills and the bubbles start to expand, I watch Simon as he wipes himself up.

I can’t believe I was inside of him. I can’t believe I did that.

And I fucking liked it.

“I’m clear,” Simon mutters suddenly, “I hope you are as well.”

I’m startled slightly because I honestly didn’t even think about it and then nod. “Yeah, of course I am. I’d never do that to you.”

He bites his bottom lip and then shakes his head. “I just…it’s happened before…someone I trusted. So thank you.”

I don’t know what that means, and before I can ask, he’s turning his back and washing his hands. When he’s done, I pull him into me and nuzzle my face into his neck, right next to the bruises I’ve left on his skin.

Mine, I think. All mine. This proves it.

“Did I hurt you enough?” I ask, my lips brushing his skin.

“Yeah, that was…” He groans and cups his dick. “That was perfect.”

I grin at that admission and pull him to the full tub, sitting down first and then spreading my legs. Simon hesitates a second before sliding down in front of me with an audible groan.

“It hurts to sit,” he admits and then leans his head back against my chest. “I love it.”

My hands splay across his chest, running lines up and down his body, exploring him, memorizing the shape of him. Who knows when I’ll be able to do this again? Who knows how far he’ll run this time?

“Can I ask you something?” I say, my voice almost too loud for this tiny space.

“Maybe,” he says and then huffs a laugh.

“I saw a picture of you online…”

He stiffens against me.

“…you were holding up an award. If you’re that smart and you got a scholarship, why didn’t you go to college? ”

He’s silent for a long moment. “Life. It happened.”

“Care to elaborate?”

He’s silent again, for longer this time. The water is getting a little lukewarm, but neither of us moves. I’ll sit here all night if it gets me some answers.

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