His Saint (Forever Wilde 5)

After shaking off the ridiculous self-pity, I took the cups of water back to the locker room and set them down on the bench by August’s workout clothes before stripping my own off and striding into the showers. Regardless of how the client felt about showering with me, I was going out for drinks tonight and needed to wash the sweat off before getting dirty again with a cute trick.

I tried to stay far away from him and not look at his body, but who was I kidding? His bare ass was right there, and it was gorgeous. High and tight, rounded and pale. I imagined lowering to my knees and sinking my teeth into those firm cheeks before sinking my—

Fuck.

Just as I began to look away, he turned and saw me. I quickly put my hand over my cock as if I was rinsing it or washing it. It wasn’t fully hard yet, but it wouldn’t take long if I kept looking at my client’s body under the shower spray.

One more hour, Saint, and you can flirt with someone at the pub. Stop thinking about the client. Just wait one more hour.

Chapter 5

Augie

When Saint had left me alone to shower, I’d been relieved as hell. Every teasing word I’d ever heard about my body growing up clanged in my ears most days, but when I stood next to what most people considered a perfect male body, it was especially awful. If I’d been naked in the shower with him, I’d have felt even more humiliated and mortified than I normally did in a communal shower.

But I wasn’t ready to go home to a dark house all alone. Another night home alone, sleeping in my hidey-hole despite the state-of-the-art security system Rory had arranged to be installed the day after the break-in was not my idea of a happy night ahead.

The new alarm system had been enough for the first few nights. Between that and the extra locks on my bedroom door, I’d felt somewhat secure.

Until I’d had a terrible nightmare in which the intruders not only broke into my house but also dragged me out of bed and tortured me for hours. I’d spent the next night in a hotel a few towns over before getting up the nerve to return to Hobie the following day. I’d finally allowed Rory to talk me into self-defense classes, but one measly session surely wasn’t enough to give me the guts to sleep in the wide-open bedroom that night when the hidey-hole was so much safer.

I wondered if I’d ever be able to sleep in my own bed like a normal person again. Regardless, I knew I wanted to put off finding out for several more hours. The pub next to my shop had a popular happy hour, and if I wanted to stop by and check it out, I’d need to take a shower first. So, after Saint walked out of the locker room, I stripped out of my clothes and walked into the tiled space. The water slid over my sweaty skin, and I just stood there for a while, letting the warm spray pound against my neck and shoulder muscles. I faced the wall and closed my eyes.

All I could think about was how strange I’d felt during the session. Every time Saint had touched me, it had felt like something was happening to my skin. Like my body was a divining rod and his was a secret underground well of rich, cool water. I’d vibrated when he came near me and felt the loss of him when we parted. The whole thing was weird, not just regular physical attraction, and part of me wondered if that was how identical twins felt—like there was another body on earth that was somehow mystically dialed into theirs to the point of having an intense reaction when near each other.

I shook my head and felt the shower water slide down the sides of my face. Memories of times in my adolescence when I’d had a crush on my math teacher surfaced in my mind. What had made me think of Mr. Randolph now? Was it attraction I was feeling for Saint? Of course it fucking was.

I’d tried very hard to squelch all inappropriate feelings for other men years ago when my grandfather had caught me staring in a year-end school awards assembly and asked me about it at the restaurant later that night. My mother’s reaction had been swift and harsh—enough to send my balls deep into hiding and my fantasies about other men completely out of my mind. From then on, my mother had taken every opportunity to warn me about dire consequences for tarnishing our vaunted family name with tawdry modern “lifestyle choices.” I’d decided then and there to just stick to dating women like I was expected to. Women were easy. Women were lovely. Women were safe.