I'm practically dragging Boston into my bedroom, not paying attention to my father's clear warning. His voice was taught, near angry at the suggestion Boston should take a shower and eat. What he didn't understand is that I planned on showering with him, helping him wash off all the filth from the last week.
He closes the door behind us saying, "I take it your room has a shower since you're dragging me in here. If it doesn't then I'm sorry because your dad is right. I am in desperate need of a shower. I stink, like... I can even smell myself." He's not wrong but I don't care.
"Yes, it has a shower." I start stripping out of my clothes which makes his eyes widen. "What? I'm showering with you. I don't want to spend another moment without you, even it's while you shower."
"Monica, I don't know if that's such a great idea. I'm pretty sure your dad will kick my ass." It is a strong possibility that he'd want to do it but I'd never let him actually do it.
"I won't let him lay a hand on you." He doesn't look convinced. "Boston, take your clothes off." His brow raises in surprise. "Now."
He lets out a long whistle followed by, "yes, ma'am." When he starts to strip I head into the bathroom to turn on the shower. "I don't know if you really want to shower with me." His voice is coming up behind me. "I seriously fucking stink, Monica, you don't have to be nice about it. I legitimately smell like a horse's ass."
I arch a brow. "Are you familiar with what a horses ass smells like?"
"I actually have a cologne called Horse De Poo Poo, so yes, I'm familiar, thank you very much." I belt out a laugh at that.
"I see you didn't lose your humor." He just smiles at that and for some reason I notice we're having this conversation completely naked. "I guess we really are married, huh?"
"What, you're just now realizing this because of horse shit cologne?"
"No, because we're just chilling in the bathroom, butt-ass naked, talking about horse shit cologne like we're talking about the weather." It's his turn to let out a laugh. "I'm just saying that's a whole other level of comfortable."
"Yeah, we've always been comfortable around each other, so there's that." He walks around me and sticks his hand in the shower, checking the temperature. "You trying to scald my skin off?" I roll my eyes as he turns the nob, lowering the temperature. "I have to take a piss wicked fucking bad. I don't know if you want to watch that but it's happening regardless."
"We may be comfortable with each other and I'm flattered that you want me to watch you urinate and all, but I'm all set." I hop into the warmth of the shower, finally being able to feel it after a week of Boston being missing. I would just soak myself and cry the majority of the time I'd shower. The skin scalding temperature Boston had originally felt didn't feel so hot when sitting down in the tub. After a full minute I can still hear Boston unleashing his bladder. "Jesus," I poke my head out and see Boston's bare ass as he continues, "that is the longest piss of all time. Guinness book status."
"Yeah, well," he cocks his head over his shoulder to look at me as he finishes with a couple of shakes, "I've been in a fucking cell for about a week with nothing to piss and shit in but a bucket. So, you know, I may have tried to hold it for as long as possible." That statement makes me wince thinking about whatever conditions he was staying in. He comes to the shower and jerks the curtain open, signaling for me to move out of the water. "Move your ass."
"Rude." But I move regardless because he definitely needs it more than me.
He lets out a long, exhausted sounding breath of relief as the water hits his broad chest. I watch as he leans forward, hands on the wall in front of him, and hangs his head down for the water to hit his hair. His neck rolls from side to side relishing in the feeling of the steady stream. I study the ink on his back until he pushes off the wall to stand straight. Eventually, he turns around and looks heavenward. There's so much going on in those eyes, so many different emotions. I can't quite put my finger on a single, particular one.
I suds up a washcloth then reach forward and begin scrubbing his chest. He trembles slightly which makes me pause and look up into those dark eyes. "Are you okay?" He hesitates but nods anyway which tells me he is anything but okay. All jokes and funny conversations between us aside, he looks upset. I don't touch on the subject as I work my way over his body, letting him process whatever it is that's going on in his mind. "Turn around, handsome."
He turns with an amused look. "When did you get so demanding, huh?"
"I could go all femdom on you, if you want."
He snorts. "Yeah, whatever you say, Mistress Monica." He looks over his shoulder. "You know that actually has a nice ring to it. Although I do think you look good in skin-tight leather, I'm good with the whole dominatrix thing. That's not really my kinky cup of tea."
"Ah, even you have your kink limits."
"Bod mod is about as close as I'll get to getting off on pain or whatever that fifty shades shit is all about." I finish scrubbing him down. He holds out his hand for the cloth so I give it to him. He wrings it out before wetting it again then does a harsh scrub down of his body, going over every single square inch of his flesh until it's near raw. If it weren't for the fact his skin is covered with tattoos it would probably be bright red.
After he's done he sets down the cloth and signals for us to switch spots but I'm not having that. He clearly needs the shower more than me. "No, I'm fine, Boston. Take all the time you need."
"Your nipples could cut diamonds. Warm up." I shake my head in defiance but ultimately oblige him when he gives me a stern look. He's not wrong— I'm frigid.
I soak up the warm water greedily. We swap shampoo and conditioner back and forth, as well as positions, rinsing the soapy suds from our hair and bodies. I close my eyes as I savor the feeling of the water washing out the last bits of conditioner, combing my fingers through it to help the process.
I stifle a gasp when I feel his mouth on my sex. I open my eyes, looking down to see Boston kneeling before me. The pad of his tongue licks my slit slowly, purposefully as he holds my eyes with his. He does this twice more before I can find my voice.
"What're you doing?"
He gives me another long languid lick, sucking my clit into his mouth at the end. He pulls slightly away saying, "what does it look like I'm doing?" I bite my lip then shake my head, feeling my cheeks heat. "Your dad told me to shower and get something to eat." He places a kiss directly on my sensitive bundle, then brings up an exploratory finger. "I'm just doing as instructed."
He doesn't wait for a response, just sucks my clit into his mouth again. His tongue rolls over it, the feeling of the ring there, teasing it just so, feels delectable. A slow moan passes between my lips as two fingers push up inside of me. When he curls them against that perfect spot I have to clamp my hand down over my mouth. He pushes and pulls in and out of me as he laps and sucks me perfectly. I can feel the warm wetness seeping out of me slowly as I can the spray of hot water against my back.
My body begins trembling when his hungry gaze meets mine. He's so fucking sexy, the image of him working me so erotic I can barely stand it; or stand up. I thread the hand not covering my cries through his thick black locks to steady myself, trying not to fall over in my pleasure. Not even realizing I'd started doing it, I notice my hips rocking on his face, riding it to find release. It doesn't take long before I find it and the feeling of my orgasm slams into me like a head on collision. It takes both hands to cover the scream that leaves my mouth. Without Boston's hand steadying me I would've probably fallen out of the shower.
When I finally come down from my high Boston stands up. He's wearing a broad smirk, satisfied for the complete mess that he's made me. He holds up his left hand and wriggles his fingers with, "I had to christen it." He's referring to the gold band wrapped around his ring finger, specifically my orgasmic juices coating it.
"Oh my God! Stop that." He brings his fingers to his lips with a playfully sensual look on his face. He sucks them into his mouth while closing his eyes, as if savoring my flavor.
"Mmm," he brings them out with a wink, "finger-licking good." My cheeks flare in embarrassment. "Don't look like that. That was the best meal I've had in a while." Speaking of that I know he's got to be hungry for actual sustenance.
I turn around and shut off the water with, "we should probably get you some real food though. You've got to be starving." I step out of the shower but he lets out an unamused laugh. "What?" I toss him a towel as he exits.
"First things first. I need to take care of this," he points down to his erection, "before I go out into a room full of our mutual family members, especially when one is your father. I don't think he'll be too thrilled to see me rocking a raging hard-on knowing who gave it to me."
I blush furiously at that as I towel myself dry. "Yeah, you make a valid point. How exactly do you want to take care of that?"
"Why don't you get your sweet ass on the bed and find out."
I toss my towel on the bathroom counter before doing just that.
A/N:
Happy Friyay!
Hope you all enjoyed the chapter!