7 Chapter 7

Mahiro pushes the door open and flips the low-level lights on. The chrome fixtures gleam against the white porcelain and the warm cork flooring, and Mahiro sighs contentedly as he fills the tub and tosses in some of the lemongrass bath salts they keep in a bowl on the small shelf above.

It’s so quiet that as Mahiro climbs in, the slosh of the water echoes against his eardrums. The heat is soothing, slipping over his skin and warming his muscles. The water rises up over his chin as he wonders what it will be like to bring Alex here after a particularly intense scene, his skin pink and wet from exertion, eyes half-closed from the rush of endorphins from the orgasm Mahiro had denied him for hours. Mahiro imagines nestling Alex between his thighs, letting his head fall back against Mahiro’s shoulder as the shiver of adrenaline takes him and Mahiro pets his hair and kisses his neck and tells him how beautiful, how perfect, how amazing he is.