No Good Deed - Marie Sexton Page 0,34

Avery wash off him and down the drain.

“You still have hot water in there?” Charlie asked.

“Yep. Just waiting on you.”

Charlie cracked the door open and peeked in. “I barely fit in here alone.”

Jonas grinned. “Even better.”

He waited for Charlie to undress and step into the stall with him. If they’d needed to worry about washing, they’d be running into each other’s elbows, but once Charlie wrapped his arms around him, it didn’t matter.

“See?” Jonas said. “Plenty of room.”

Charlie gently backed Jonas against the wall, kissing him. His big, strong hands moved over Jonas’s body—massaging, caressing, comforting. There was nothing blatantly sexual about it, but Jonas felt as if he was melting, softening, finally fully relaxing as Charlie touched him. Their erections brushed against each other, but neither of them moved to touch the other there. There was something sweet and innocent about it. Jonas simply clung to Charlie, lost in Charlie’s kiss and the gentleness of his touch. The anticipation as Charlie kissed him was almost better than sex itself.

Jonas sighed, one word in his mind.

Daddy.

For the first time ever, that word meant more than a sexual kink. It had nothing to do with who sired him, or his bitterness toward his actual father. It certainly wasn’t some kind of incest fantasy. He saw now that “daddy” wasn’t a title for one specific man. It was an adjective—one that described everything Charlie was: gentle, protective, loving, nurturing. It meant a guide, and an advocate. It meant somebody who took care of you, no matter what. Jonas felt special. Charlie made him feel treasured and sheltered and appreciated. Jonas had never felt as comfortable and at peace as he did right at that moment. If that wasn’t a daddy, then what was?

Charlie finally broke from him, and Jonas moaned, missing that contact more than anything.

“Give me a minute.”

Charlie stepped out, and Jonas stood there, his eyes closed, the water running over him, caressing him as Charlie had done. He didn’t want to masturbate, but he angled himself so the spray hit his erection just right. He drifted, caught between pleasure and tranquility, until the water began to turn cold, and Charlie opened the stall door and turned the shower off.

He was gorgeous, wearing only a leather vest, chaps, and boots. Jonas loved seeing Charlie in his leathers. He could never get enough of his chest and his arms. He was the epitome of masculinity. All except the fluffy yellow towel in his hands.

“Come here.”

Charlie led him into the bedroom, then sat on the edge of the bed, Jonas standing in front of him. He dried Jonas off slowly and methodically, from his hair all the way down to his feet, then back up his legs. He turned him around and spent a long time on his back and shoulders and neck. Then turned him again and spent even longer on his front, the towel gently brushing Jonas’s groin until he was whimpering softly, his eyes closed as Charlie touched him.

When Charlie spoke, his voice was thick and heavy with arousal. “Get on the bed, on your hands and knees.”

Jonas obeyed. Charlie arranged the pillows under him so he could lay his top half on the bed, his ass in the air, his legs spread. His erection hung heavy between his legs.

“I’m not going to tie your hands. You can hang on to the headboard if you want.”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“Good boy.”

Charlie’s big, strong hands moved up and down Jonas’s back, massaging him, settling him. Charlie’s erection sometimes brushed Jonas’s ass, or against his scrotum, but Charlie only rubbed him, up his sides, from his hips to his shoulders, then down his spine to the globes of his ass. Charlie massaged those too, before moving up Jonas’s sides again, then back to his ass. Up and down, up and down, over and over, lolling Jonas into something that felt almost trancelike, balanced between arousal and utter relaxation.

Finally, Charlie’s caress continued down, past Jonas’s ass, toward his thighs. Charlie’s thumbs brushed his scrotum, and Jonas moaned. He wanted to lean into that touch, but he also wanted nothing more than to simply lie there, letting Charlie have his way.

Charlie caressed Jonas’s testicles, eliciting a shiver from him. His fingers found Jonas’s cock, rubbing it much as he had rubbed Jonas’s back—not as if he was jerking Jonas off, but as if it was only an extension of the rest of him. Yet another part of him where tension may reside.

“That’s it,” Charlie said. “Just keep