“You okay?” he asks.
“Just sore,” I reply. “Comes with the job. And being old.”
“I can give you a massage,” he offers.
God, having Charlie’s hands on me sounds like the most exquisite torture. But I’m not sure that’s such a good idea. My cock is already half hard just from having him close to me.
“Come on.” He stands up. “Let’s move to your bed. It won’t work so well on the couch.”
I stand and follow him down the hall, even though every part of my brain is telling me not to do this.
“Take off your shirt and lie on your stomach,” he directs once we’re in my room. I do as he says and I almost gasp when I feel him climb on top of me and straddle my hips, his ass touching mine. Holy shit, this was so not a good idea.
I rest my head on my forearms and let out a deep breath, as his small hands begin to work the muscles in my back, kneading and massaging, loosening up areas I didn’t even realize were so damn tight. His hands are strong, but gentle, and so soft. He finds a trigger point on my shoulder blade and I wince when he applies a steady pressure.
“You okay?” I nod and grunt.
“Yeah, peachy,” I reply, and he laughs, which makes his body move against mine. Oh god, why did I enjoy that so much? I’m a sick, sick man.
He keeps applying pressure until I feel the trigger point give, and I sigh in relief. But my body begins to betray me as he moves further down my back, using the heels of his hands, and I feel my cock harden. His thumbs press into the small of my back, just above the waistband of my sweats, and I groan. It feels so good, and I’m horrified that I’m so aroused. Shit, I can’t let him see me like this.
“Relax,” he tells me. “You’re tensing up again.”
I let out a breath and close my eyes, willing myself to relax. That’s the whole point of this, after all. I tell myself this isn’t sexual and he’s just trying to help me feel better and that I need to get a fucking grip.
“That’s better,” he says. I feel his hands move up my back again. “I can do more if you want.”
I shake my head, because I need to be finished so I can calm my dick down and not think about how it feels to have Charlie sitting on top of me in that cute as fuck outfit, his hands all over my bare skin.
“Good?” he asks, rubbing my shoulders a little and then the base of my neck.
I nod. “Thank you.”
“Of course.” He climbs off of me and stands up. “Ready to watch moreFriends?”
“In a minute,” I hope beyond hope that he doesn’t catch on to why I’m not getting up right away, and chalks it up to me just being super relaxed.
He smiles. “I’ll go make some popcorn,” he says, and then leaves the room.
I sigh and roll over, staring down at my very hard dick and willing it to behave itself. “You are causing problems,” I tell it. “Be good. He’s not for us.” I lie there for a moment longer and think of vomit and diarrhea so I can get my erection to deflate. Fortunately it does the trick, but not so fortunately it makes me not really want the popcorn Charlie made for us. He doesn’t seem phased by it and just grins and shoves a huge handful into his mouth. I watch as it falls all over his lap.
“You need a dog,” he tells me.
“And why is that?”
“They’re like natural vacuum cleaners.” He says it like it’s the obvious answer. “No cleaning up the food you spill. You just let them do it and everyone is happy.”
“Yes, until the dog needs a stomach pump,” I reply, and he laughs.
He’s sitting with his legs tucked under him now, in the corner of the sofa, and I miss him being next to me, but glancing over and seeing his adorable bare knees peeking out from underneath his pleated skirt, along with that cute as fuck belly button, it’s almost worth it.
I have an ache in my chest that night as I lie in bed, because I don’t fucking know what to do about this insane attraction I have for him. I’ve never felt this way about a guy before. I’ve never felt this way about anyone before, not even my wife. The need, the utter desire I feel for Charlie is overwhelming.
I’m so fucking ashamed, and tears start to slide down my cheeks as my body trembles. After everything with Trey, after losing him, after all the conversations we had, after I treated him the way I did, here I am, wanting a boy who is twenty-seven years my junior. And even if it were okay for something to happen between us, I don’t deserve it. Not after I destroyed my son. And if Charlie ever found out, he’d fucking hate me. And he’d have every right to, because what I did was unforgivable.
ChapterSeven
PAUL
