He stood, head bowed, arms braced, hot water cascading over his broad shoulders, down the length of his naked back, then over the curve of his ass. A heavy sigh escaped him, the sound lonely and tired. So cold and empty. Too many days had passed, too much time spent alone.
A whisper of air disturbed his solitude and he startled, then warm familiar flesh pressed up against him. Hands caressed his skin, slipped lower into the foam, the curls at his groin, surrounded his cock. He invited their touch, the velvet strokes, the strong skillful fingers, surrendering and letting them steal his soul.
A soft cry of release welcomed his lover home before the blond head lifted.
"So, how was Atlanta?" Chris breathed huskily.
"Lonely," came Vinīs reply and soft laughter against his heated skin.
Flesh against wet naked flesh, hearts beating together, Chris realized he was never alone.
THE END
PHOENIX
Michael Biehn Archive
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