Chapter 14: Decide Nothing

On Friday night I let myself into Will's half with the key he'd pressed into my hand on Wednesday and called a fire safety measure.

He was at the stove in a T-shirt, stirring something with garlic in it.

He looked up, saw my face, and turned the burner off.

"Shower," I said.

"I've got dinner."

"It'll keep. Your water heater won't."

"It's from 1994," he said. "It gives you eight minutes and then it has opinions."

"Then we'd better hurry."

I took his hand and walked him down the hall.

I'd spent a whole day in other people's mouths, and I wanted one thing that day to be mine.

In his bathroom I pulled his shirt over his head and dropped it on the tile.

He stood there letting me, with his hands loose at his sides and his eyes going dark.

"You're in charge tonight," he said.

"I know."

"Good."

I turned on the water and stripped while it heated.

He watched every piece hit the floor like a present he was too polite to tear.

Then I stepped in and pulled him after me.

The water ran hot over my shoulders.

I soaped my hands and put them on him, chest, belly, the ridge of hip, and he leaned his forehead against mine and breathed.

I wrapped my fist around his cock, slick with soap, and stroked him slowly from root to tip.

"Claire."

"Keep your hands on the wall."

He put them flat on the tile on either side of my head.

I worked him in long tight pulls with my thumb circling the head.

His arms trembled, and his breath came out in pieces.

"I want you inside me," I said. "Standing up. Now."

He made a noise I felt in my teeth.

He caught me under the thighs and lifted, and my back met the cool wet tile.

I hooked my ankles behind him.

He pushed in, slow, and I felt every thick inch of him open me.

"Fuck," I whispered. "Yes. All of it."