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was embarrassed. Shit. Now Adam
was going to spend the next three weeks thinking of what might have been.
    His cock was still hard as stone and there was a tremor in
his body he needed gone. He walked into the bedroom and stripped off for the
shower he’d not got around to taking, letting his clothes fall on the floor.
Adam stared down at them. Maybe reading the instructions for the washing
machine would dampen his ardor. He picked up Ally’s folder.
    A couple of minutes later he set it aside.
    No. He was still hard.
    He put his clothes in the laundry hamper but suspected he’d
be buying new gear rather than risk experimenting with the machine in the
kitchen. Adam stepped into the shower and let cool water pour over his
shoulders. His cock remained rigid. He upped the heat. No point torturing
himself. He squirted his favorite shower gel into his palm—had Ally thought of
everything?—and wrapped slick fingers around his cock.
    At that first touch, he arched back against the wall and
exhaled. He drew his fist up from his balls in a long, slow slide, brushed his
palm over his tingling crest and then slid his hand back to the root of his
cock.
    He wished it were Tomas playing with him. He wished the guy
were standing here so Adam could do the same to him. He wished—he sighed and
began to pump, drawing his foreskin over the sensitive head before dragging his
hand down. He stood so the flow of water hit his neck and back, and blinked
droplets from his lashes as he stared at his cock, imagining Tomas on his knees
in front of him, lips wrapped around the tip before he took him deep into his
throat.
    The thought heralded a burst of pre-cum. Silky liquid seeped
onto his hand to be washed away by trickles of water. He wrapped his fingers
around his balls and pulled down to stop himself coming while he twisted and
squeezed his shaft with his other hand. As tension invaded every part of his
body to wage a war of attrition against his nerves, the water seemed to grow
warmer. For the last year, this ride, this solitary race toward orgasm, had
been dominated by visions of Ally and Caspar, singly and together—but always
with him.
    Now he saw Tomas in his mind…his dark eyes…his lips…his
tongue.
    Memories of the way he felt, tasted and smelled filled
Adam’s head. He was torn between going slow or coming fast and hard. He almost
smiled at the notion of choice. Pinching tighter around the tip of his cock, he
made short, quick jerks so that his palm struck his crest on the downstroke. At
the same time, he firmed his grip on his balls. The need to come grew. A biting
ache in his head and another in his gut galloped through discomfort toward
pleasure and he braced for the connection to flash between them.
    His gasps grew louder and louder as his heart pounded hard
against his ribs.
    “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
    Cum boiled in his balls and the moment he released his grip,
orgasm took control of his body. He erupted in long, creamy jets onto the
tiles. White lights flashed behind his eyes and Adam leaned to rest his
forehead against his arm as he shuddered.
    Three weeks were going to seem like three months.
     
    Tomas heard Adam’s shower start up on the other side of his
wall and failed to swallow the lump in his throat. He could have had Adam in
here with him but he’d done the right thing and pushed him away. It was the
sensible thing to do. The safe thing to do. A really difficult thing to do.
    Hell knew what the guy thought of him. Tomas had been so
close to following and finishing what they’d started. Now he suspected Adam was
managing that on his own. He stripped, tossed his clothes aside and stepped
into the shower stall. Before his conscience stopped him, he put his ear to the
wall and listened. Faint grunts sounded above the noise of the water, there was
a muttered expletive and he twisted the dial to stop himself listening to more.
    It made no difference to the way he felt. His cock was hard
enough to hurt, his balls primed