Jesse

I poured the water slowly, entranced by the way single beads escaped to trickle down the skin of Ash's temples, while the rest moved in smooth streams through his sandy tresses, pulling the pale strands along for the ride until they seemed to float as freely as the water itself.

He'd finally listened. He'd finally understood. I didn't love him because he owned a home, or because he had offered me a job. I didn't love him in spite of what he did for a living. I loved him because his soul spoke to mine. Nothing mattered other than the way he made me feel.

He'd let me take his hand and lead him home. He'd let me run the water and remove his clothes and guide his body into the warmth and peace that I knew he'd find there. He loved the water nearly as much as I did. He used his time in the shower between clients not only to clean up, but to reset, and I could think of no better way to help him reset and find his way back to me than to sit with him, quiet and supportive and present, while he gently floated.

Looking back over our time together it was suddenly so easy to see that he'd needed this. He'd needed me to take control; to show him that nothing was going to scare me away. He was so strong and knowledgeable and confident that it had been easy for me to lose myself in my own insecurities to the point I hadn't noticed his. I'd know he was hesitant, but I'd thought he was concerned that sex with me would feel no different than it did with his clients. I hadn't realized that he'd spent our entire relationship feeling as if he wasn't enough.

I worked thick peppermint conditioner through his hair, gently teasing out the knots that had taken hold during his restless night on the office couch. I let my fingertips trail along his jaw line and down the sides of his neck.

His body responded to each simple touch, and he trembled as Itraced along the top of his shoulder. His breath caught as my fingers explored behind his ear and along his jaw. Goosebumps rose along the skin of his chest above the water line. Streams of warm water followed my touch, rinsing away stress and strain, and I watched as his body slowly released all the fear it had been holding so tightly.

The water was clear, and I let my gaze linger freely along the curves and planes of his body. He was stunning, all long lines and harsh edges with the slightest bit of soft blond fur. I'd never press him before he was ready, but I wanted him. I'd never wanted anyone the way I wanted him.

As I slipped my fingers across his collar bone, along the front of his throat, and down across his chest, his breath came in sharp gasps and quiet whimpers. I leaned forward, letting my hand travel down the center of his body, fingernails lightly marking their way along his stomach, his skin hotter than the water that held him.

My tongue grazed the side of his neck, gathering the small beads of sweat that had gathered. He"d hardened as I'd explored, and I paused for a moment, watching his length pulse in time with his heartbeat just under the surface of the water before shifting back to play with his hair once again.

Less than a year ago I'd paced up and down the hallway for fourteen minutes before I managed to knock on his door to interview for a job. Now here I sat, trying my best to comfort the man I loved.