West rolled off the bed. “I’m going to hop in the shower,” he said, stalking into the bathroom. Yes, maybe he was hiding in there. He let Rush fuck him. He hardly ever bottomed. Usually he didn’t like to give up that much control. He was so gone with lust he didn’t even think about it. He wanted it. And it was fucking amazing. He turned the water on and stepped in, then scrubbed the scent of sweat and sex from his skin. He needed a few minutes alone to clear his head. He’d never been a part of something so messy before. Until now all his romantic entanglements were civilized, refined. They met through friends or through business contacts. He even tried Internet dating once or twice, but all were at upscale restaurants or bars, where they split the check, took a cab back to his place, then had neat and tidy beige sex. Sex with Rush was anything but beige. The volatility and sexual tension had all come to a head, and West had never felt anything quite that potent in his life.
