Jacob angled his head back. Lukewarm water beat against his scalp, cascading down the length of his hair and the flesh of his buttocks. Eyes closed, the tendons of his throat stretched taut, he breathed in the clean smell of soap, savoring the rush of steam that filled and refreshed his lungs. The liquid bore a metallic scent, as it had since tapping the latest drill site. Jacob prayed it was untainted and continued basking in luxury. He’d gotten quick over the years, soaping his shoulder-length brown mane and finishing with a full body scrub in under three minutes flat. The remainder of his allotted time left him to rinse and simply enjoy the feel of water against his skin, his pores drinking in the moisture like a man thirsting in the desert.

His thoughts wandered to the registered citizens who lived above ground within the walled cities. Those who swore allegiance to the Water Lords could visit the public bathhouses for up to one hour a day, depending on how many service points they’d earned, and took water quality for granted. Certain perks came with blind obedience, Jacob supposed. Yet the subjugated masses would never know the satisfaction that he knew once a week for fifteen glorious minutes as he stood under the jet of H2O pumped and filtered by the rebellion.

As the water trickled down his body and pooled at his feet, a vague memory played through his head.

Watering day on a warm summer evening. Running through the sprinkler in the backyard while his mother watched and laughed. They’d eaten watermelon afterward, the red fruit juicy and sweet. Mom had challenged him and Dad to a contest, seeing how far they could spit the black seeds across the green carpet of lawn.

Jacob pushed the memory away, as he always did with uninvited visions of childhood. The past was just that--the past. Turning, he squeezed his hands through his drenched hair. The spray drummed against his chest, the rhythmic pulse of water soothing his muscles. All too soon, his time was up. The flow of water dwindled to a drip, then stopped.

“Damn it,” Jacob groaned. Shivering in the sudden cool of the stall, his skin prickling with gooseflesh, he thumbed the latch to the stainless steel door. He was stopped short by the rattle of air in the pipes. He stared up at the shower nozzle, and was greeted with a blast of water in the face.

“What the fuck?” he sputtered, tasting what he hoped was copper, wiping the water from his eyes. In answer, he heard the door jerk open. A warm, lithe body slid in behind him. Strong, slender arms wrapped around his waist.

Smiling, Jacob turned around. He squinted down at his surprise guest. “What are you doing?” he asked. He slid his hands to grip Ethan’s ass, its firm contours well mapped by now.

The recruit smirked back up at Jacob with a crooked twist of his lips. A mischievous glint sparked his blue eyes, framed by choppy strands of blond clinging to his face. “I thought you might enjoy a half hour shower.”

“What’s the catch?”

“A fifteen minute fuck. Think you can handle it?”

“I can get you off in ten.” Jacob’s cock swelled instantly at Ethan’s challenge. Though he preferred to take his time, like they had in the tent a few nights before during their last surveillance mission, a quick, hard fuck would suffice for the time being.



-- Excerpt from A Roof for the Rain
A short story by Katrina Strauss
Coming March 26 from Red Rose Publishing for $1.99 at:
http://redrosepublishing.com/bookstore/product_info.php?products_id=411

For more work by Katrina Strauss, please visit:
http://www.katrinastrauss.com/