Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 100859 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 504(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 336(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100859 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 504(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 336(@300wpm)
What if he’s drowned? Or found my razor and killed himself? I don’t know the man and what he’s been going through.
I can’t shake the troubling thoughts, so I call out, “Abe?”
I put down the drinks, get to my feet, and open the door to the bathroom.
He’s in the bathtub, just staring at the wall. His eyes are so dark against the white room and brimming with intensity that it makes a shiver run down my back. This is generally the opposite of a drug comedown.
“Abe?” I ask again. I’m starting to wonder if it’s his actual name at all. “Are you alright?”
He doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t move.
I slowly walk over to him and perch on the side of the tub. I can’t help but stare into the water at his body. Every inch of his is hard-packed muscle. I’m strong, but I’m lean, not a lot of fat on me, but his body is thick and tight all at once. He must weigh a ton, and I imagine pushing his body into the floor as I ravage him from behind, how good it would feel to shove him around, make him obey my every command. His cock is especially magnificent, even when it’s submerged and half-hard, and the soap that’s floating in the tub bumps into the tip of it.
Finally, he looks at me with a slow turn of his head, and I make sure he knows I like what I see. I let my eyes linger on his body, let him feel the heat in my gaze. His cock twitches under the water, growing large, stiff, and magnificent under my watch.
“I was worried,” I say after the tension in the bathroom seems too thick to bear. I meet his eyes, and I’m startled by what I see. How utterly focused and carnal he looks. Gone is the sullen scowl or the simmering fear or the fog of the opium.
“I have the feeling you worry too much,” Abe says.
I let out a small laugh. “You’d be wrong. I used to worry. I came to New York so I wouldn’t have to.”
I think you’re the first person I’ve worried about in a very long time.
He reaches into the tub and wraps his fist around the meaty base of his cock.
“As you can see,” he says in a throaty voice, sliding his hand up and down his shaft with deliberation, “you don’t have to worry about me.”
A smirk tugs at my lips. “That’s really sweet of you,” I croon. “But I’m afraid you have the wrong impression. You’re not here so that I can get you off. You’re here to get me off. And if you’re a good boy, I’ll give you release too.”
I watch him carefully. I’m particular in my wants and needs, and not a lot of men love being submissive. This man certainly isn’t the submissive type. He’s dominant too, I can tell. But I’m older than he is, maybe by ten years. I have experience, and for all the rawness in his eyes, the jutting swell of his blood-darkened cock, I have a suspicion he doesn’t do this often. There’s a greenness underneath, one that usually comes with a heavy helping of guilt, a sense that desire for another man is wrong.
“You’re free to leave if that displeases you,” I say, standing up. I reach down and rub the heel of my palm against my cock, hard and straining against my trousers. “I won’t take offense. I’ll be glad you at least got to have a bath, got a moment of respite from whatever is haunting you. Or hunting you.”
He swallows hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing on his thick neck. “What if it’s both?” His voice is a whisper now, and that anguish and fear has come crawling back. “What if I’m being haunted and hunted?”
His words drive a stake of need through me. Not just the sexual need that’s throbbing throughout my entire body but a need to protect him. To save him. To fix him. This broken, haunted stranger in my bathtub.
I carefully unbutton the fly of my trousers and pull out my cock, the weight of it heavy in my palm, the skin hot and buzzing with want, aching to be touched and sucked.
Abe’s eyes stare at my length with fervor, a wildness coming over his face that drains all the fear away. This will help, I think. This is a start.
“I will take your mind off things,” I tell him, making sure he hears it as a command.
Abe’s gaze burns into mine as he adjusts himself in the bathtub, the water splashing over and onto the floor as he rotates so he’s on his knees. With one hand, he grabs his cock, and the other reaches for mine.
I quickly snatch his wrist, gripping him tight. “Don’t touch yourself. That’s a rule.”