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“I want to have tub sex,” I said.
He shook his head. “Even if you weren’t sore, sex in the water isn’t good for you. It washes away all of your natural lubrication.”
I wrinkled my nose at him. “Shouldn’t I get to be the one to decide that?”
“Not in this case,” he said. He played with a curl tendril that had escaped my messy bun. “Your job is to be my good girl. My job is to take care of you.”
“I’ve always taken care of myself. I’m not sure I know how to let someone else take care of me.”
He smiled and kissed the tip of my nose. “Maybe it’s time you learned.”
We sat quietly in the tub for a while longer before he said, “The mechanic called. They fixed my car this morning.”
“What was wrong with it?” I asked.
“Honestly, I have no idea. I just hear Charlie Brown adults talking whenever cars are discussed.”
I laughed hard. “Deacon, are you serious?”
“Yep. I have zero interest in cars beyond - is it fancy, and can it get me to where I need to go. It drives my father crazy. He’s a huge car fanatic.”
He linked our fingers together. “I think my attitude toward cars was my very quiet teen rebellion toward my father. Show zero interest in something he loved, you know?”
“I get it,” I said.
“He’s very blue-collar,” he said. “He’s the drinks beer, loves football, cars, and hunting type. He didn’t know what to do with a son who wasn’t good at sports, refused to hunt, and spent most of his time reading. It’s why he pushed me into accounting rather than the restaurant with my grandparents or construction with him. He figured it was a pansy job for a pansy kid.”
I squeezed his hand. “I’m sorry he did that.”
He shrugged. “I’m not. Again, I’ve done very well in the business world, and ultimately, it was the right decision for me. I love cooking as a hobby, and I’m not sure I would still enjoy it if I did it for a living.”
“You’re very good at what you do,” I said.
“Thank you.” He smiled at me before his eyes went hazy with memory. “My dad asked me once if I was gay. The look on his face when he asked… like it would be the worst thing in the world if I were. I was eighteen and just getting ready to start university, and I remember thinking how much I wanted to hurt him for that look on his face. So, I lied and said I was bi. He didn’t speak to me for a year.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, turning in the water to stroke his chest and press a kiss against his mouth. “I’m so sorry.”
“He got over it. Told me he wouldn’t talk about it with me, and as long as I didn’t bring home any of those,” Deacon’s face made a moue of disgust, “pansy boyfriends, everything would be fine.”
“What an asshole,” I said.
I was still stroking his chest, and he studied how my fingers traced his skin, his gaze still distant with memories, before he said, “I’ve had a few sexual experiences with men at the club. I enjoyed them a lot. After the first one, I remember lying in bed and thinking, ‘Huh, I guess I wasn’t lying to my dad after all.’ It was a very… surreal moment for me.”
I kissed his chest, and he blinked a couple of times before meeting my gaze. “Does it bother you that I’ve been with men?”
“No,” I said.
He studied me and then pressed a kiss against my mouth. “You asked me before why I wasn’t close to my parents. I said it was the money, but I want you to know that not sharing my grandparents’ wealth wasn’t because I was angry with them, or because they were absent parents, or because I was trying to punish my dad for not accepting who I was.”
“I don’t think that,” I said.
“My father owns a very successful construction company, and he and my mother are not hurting for money,” Deacon said. “If I thought they needed my grandparents' wealth and weren’t just after it because they believe I don’t deserve it, I would give it to them. I don’t care about the money.”
“I know, honey,” I said, rubbing my hand in circles on his chest. “I understand how complicated parental relationships can be, trust me. Your grandparents left the money to you because they wanted you to have it. You don’t have to feel guilty about that.”
His tense body relaxed a little, and he nodded. “I tell myself that, but…”
“Sometimes it’s good to have someone else tell you, too,” I said.
