Chapter 3: The Shower Confession
The fire was embers, and the warmth had seeped from the room into their bones, leaving a heavy, sated lethargy. Alex shifted first, rolling onto his side beside her, his fingers tracing idle patterns on the small of her back.
“We’re a mess,” he murmured, his voice rough with sleep and satisfaction.Jasmine smiled against the pillow. She felt sticky, spent, and utterly content. “A good mess.”
“Shower?” he suggested, his hand sliding down to give her backside a gentle squeeze.
The thought of moving felt monumental, but the promise of hot water and his hands on her again was irresistible. “Okay.”
The trek from the bed to the bathroom felt exposed, the cabin’s chill raising goosebumps on their skin. Alex grabbed the thick, white comforter and wrapped it around them both, pulling her close as they shuffled across the creaking wooden floor.The bathroom was already warm, the old baseboard heaters clicking softly. Alex reached in and started the shower, a thunderous roar filling the tiled space as steam began to billow. He turned to her, the comforter falling to a puddle at their feet. In the harsh overhead light, they stood naked, truly looked at each other.There was no hiding now. His gaze traveled over her, not with assessment, but with a kind of reverent curiosity that made her skin flush hotter than the steam.He stepped into the shower first, holding out a hand. She took it, the hot water a shocking, welcome blanket. It sluiced over her shoulders, washing away the physical evidence of what they’d done, but not the feeling.It was branded into her.
He reached for a bar of soap, something plain and pine-scented from the cabin’s supplies.He worked it into a lather in his palms, then began at her shoulders. His hands were methodical, kneading the tension from her muscles, moving down her arms, over the swell of her hips. He was washing her, simply washing her, and it felt more intimate than anything that had come before.
When his soap-slick hands glided over her stomach and down, cupping her, her breath hitched. He held her, his thumb brushing back and forth along her length, which was softening under the warm water but still full.
“Can I ask you something?” he said, his voice softened by the water’s percussion.
“Anything.”
“When did you… know?” He didn’t look away.His green eyes were steady, waiting.She swallowed. The water ran over her lips. “I don’t think there was a ‘when.’ It was just always there.Like… I was always a girl. I just had an extra part.” The words, spoken aloud to another person for the first time, hung in the steamy air. “It never felt wrong on me.It just felt… mine. But secret.”
He nodded, his hands still moving, soaping her gently.“And before me? Anyone else?”
A short, wet laugh escaped her.“God, no.Are you kidding?I was terrified. It was just… for me.In the dark.Thinking of…” She trailed off, her cheeks burning.
“Thinking of what?” he pressed, a playful grin returning.
“You,” she admitted, the confession leaving her lightheaded. “Almost always you.”
He stilled for a moment, his expression shifting into something raw and unguarded.Then, without a word, he sank to his knees on the shower floor. The water cascaded over his dark hair, plastering it to his forehead. He looked up at her, water caught in his eyelashes.
“My turn,” he said, and took her into his mouth.The heat was different here—external and internal, mixing with the shower’s spray. His mouth was relentless, his tongue doing things that made her thighs tremble. She braced her hands against the wet tiles, her head falling back.The steam filled her lungs. His hands gripped her hips, holding her steady as he worked her, his enthusiasm bordering on devout.
It built quickly, a bright, coiling tension different from the deep, full-body throbs of before. This was sharper, more concentrated in the place where his mouth met her. The words spilled out of her, unbidden, fueled by steam and sensation.
“Oh, fuck, Alex… your mouth… you suck my fat tranny cock so good…”
The crude words, her own voice saying them, were a catalyst. He moaned around her, the vibration tipping her over the edge. Her climax was a bright, searing pulse, shorter but just as intense. She cried out, a sharp sound lost in the shower’s roar, her body bowing as she spent herself into his willing mouth.
He drank her down, swallowing, until she was limp, her hands sliding from the tiles to his shoulders. He rose, water streaming from him, and gathered her against his chest. She was laughing, a little hysterically, tears or water or both mixing on her face.
“I can’t believe I said that,” she gasped into his neck.“I can,” he said, holding her tight. “And it was the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever heard.” He pulled back, cradling her face.“I mean it, Jas.Every inch of you.It’s perfect. You’re perfect.”
He kissed her, and she could taste herself on his lips, a salty, intimate flavor that felt like ownership. They stood like that for a long time, just kissing under the hot water, until it began to run cool.He turned it off. The silence was sudden, profound, broken only by the drip of the showerhead and their ragged breathing. He grabbed a large, fluffy towel and wrapped her in it, rubbing her arms briskly before doing the same for himself.
Back in the bedroom, he stoked the fire, adding another log until flames leapt to life. They dried off by the hearth, the orange light dancing over their skin. He fetched the bottle of whiskey and two clean glasses from the kitchen, pouring them each two fingers.
They sat on the rug, shoulders touching, sipping the amber liquid. The warmth from the fire and the whiskey spread through her, a deep, calming radiance.She felt seen. In a way she’d never dreamed possible.Alex swirled his glass, staring into the fire. “So,” he said, a slow smile spreading. “What do you want to do now?”
She leaned her head on his shoulder, the towel slipping.The world outside was dark and frozen. In here, there was only heat, and him, and a vast, uncharted territory of them.
“I don’t know,” she said, her voice a sleepy murmur. “But we’ve got all weekend.”
He turned his head, his lips brushing her damp hair.“Yeah,” he said. “We do.”