A Shower

"We absolutely have to stop meeting like this."

It takes me half a beat to realize that he's really there, that I'm not imagining him. The timing is too fortuitous and it could just be my imagination but my eyes flutter open and flick over to him, standing leaning casually against the wall at the top of the stairs, and my breath catches.

"Technically," I manage to squeak out, "I think last night I was in the kitchen when you found me."

Lucas is already smiling, but it broadens a little as I chatter back at him. He nods in agreement, no doubt remembering what happened last night in detail.

"You're right," he says, "I must have been misremembering. Guess it's the fact that you're wearing the same outfit."

I'm greatful for the dark of the hallway. It helps hide the crimson blush in my cheeks that meets the flush of arousal already present there.

I want him to come to me and pin me against the wall and fuck me like he should have last night. I want him to take me ragged, hard and manly, and make me a woman with each thrust of his cock. I want him to bend me and break me and fill me and take me, throwing me over his shoulder like a caveman and carrying me away to his bed.

And I want him to remember what I called him last night, how it felt so good for me to say it. How it made him throb when I called him Daddy.

And I want him to turn away and leave me here, because nothing he can offer me is anything but delicious poison in my veins.

He doesn't know any of this. He pushes off the wall and takes a few steps forward and I am frozen still, all of the dominance I had at times melting away as I let him take the lead.

"You know the shower works at other times in the day, right? You can take it in the morning, in the afternoon..."

"I did take one this afternoon," I meander out an answer, "I needed another."

His brow furrows and a question forms on his lips, "Work up a sweat tonight?"

"Something like that," I say in reply.

I watch him process this and it comes to me a little late, what he's asking for. The question he desperately wants to ask me but the one he isn't sure it's right for him to pose.

Last night his only objection to having me was the fact that he would be my first. He felt that burden and dammit he was too mature to see it as a benefit rather than that and so he just gave me the option. He would hold off for now and I would get a chance with someone else and if we reached a week.

A week. One whole week. One week and then the raincheck and I could cash it in and he could have me. One week and if I still wanted him, then we could snap this tension between us and just let it fucking work for us.

One week... or...

I could lie to him. I could tell him I went out tonight and rode a cock and it was good and it was great and I wasn't a virgin and he would have me. From the way he's standing and the tension in every inch of him I know that he would do it too. He would take me in this hallway, rough against the wall.

Lucas would make me pay for making him wait. He would show me what a real man can do.

My whole body tightens. I want to lie. I want to be bad. I want him to do what he wants, what I need, what we both ache for.

And all of my attention is focused on that moment of tension so that I, so that we, both don't notice that we're no longer alone.

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