“I need to shower,” I tell him.
As my mind comes back to me slowly, and I vaguely remember getting up a few times to go to the bathroom. Even that’s a blur.
“I hardly ever get sick. My father used to say when it hit me, it hit me hard.”
“It absolutely hit you hard.” He grimaces as he approaches the bed. He smells good, fresh, whereas I more than likely smell very much the opposite.
“Can I borrow a shirt to sleep in?”
He nods, offering me his hand to help me. He pulls me up with ease, so gently in his strong grip. When my legs feel a bit wobbly, he scoops me right up as if I weigh nothing.
“I’m sorry my breath stinks,” I tell him, trying to turn my face away. “And thank you for taking care of me. You didn’t have to.”
“I did.”
“Oh…”
“My mother would have had my balls.” He sets me on my feet in front of the toilet, then turns on the shower and steps back. I lift the lid and go to pull my pants down, but I look up and say, “You can go now.”
“That’s not happening. You either piss in the toilet or the shower. Either way, I’ll be standing here watching.”
“So demanding.”
“You told me you were fine last time, then you fell over.” That little tidbit of information ends the conversation.
So I pee in front of him, and it doesn’t feel weird because he doesn’t make it weird. As soon as I’m done, I kick off my pants and remove my shirt before I step into the hot shower.
“Can you drive me back when I’m done? I don’t want to be a burden,” I say, looking over my shoulder at Joey. He’s standing there in his towel, staring at me. I can feel his eyes boring into my skin.
“You need to eat.”
“Okay.”
“I’ll order food.” His eyes still haven’t met mine.
“Joey,” I say softly.
“Hmm…” His eyes find mine then, and I see something in them that I haven’t seen in a long time—lust.
“I’ll eat some French fries.”
He lifts a finger and points it at me. “Stay right there. Do not move an inch.” I nod as he walks out, and within a few seconds, he’s back, phone in hand as he orders food. When he’s done, he places the phone on the counter, and then he’s back to chaperoning.
I turn around and pick up his shampoo. I love the smell of his things. Even when I lived here, I liked using them.
“Fuck.” Joey growls as my legs start to wobble when I bend. I manage to stand back up with the shampoo, but Joey is already behind me, his hand sliding around my waist to steady me, and his hard body pushed against mine.
“I was fine.”
“Yeah, and I’m not hard.” I still at his words as I feel him behind me and realize he’s now completely bare. “Sit down. I’ll wash your hair.”
He nods to the corner seat in his shower, which is a simple small ledge, and I lower myself onto it, closing my eyes for a moment. He takes the shampoo from my clutched hand. When I open my eyes to look up at him, his cock is in full view, as is his stomach, his tattoos, everything. I could look at him for hours like this.
“You keep staring at it… it may think you like him,” Joey jokes.
“I do like it. A lot.”
“When you’re better, you can tell it all you want… with your lips.”