I hadn’t been bathed since I was a kid—or maybe in the hospital before surgery, but I was most likely unconscious for that. My mom shaved my face yesterday, which felt really good, but it was a quick and rough job. I had to hold on to the sink and stay still so she didn’t cut me. Then she soothed my face with lotion so it didn’t itch so badly afterward.

But this was my friend Elijah, and though I’d been nude in front of him before, it wasn’t like he’d been up close and personal with my junk.

The dog had lain down at my feet, providing a calming presence, and I supposed that was what Elijah had hoped to accomplish, but I wasn’t feeling particularly settled or soothed for that matter. A shiver wracked me as I glanced at the bowl of soapy liquid. I wanted to feel less disgusting but was freaked at the same time.

As soon as he dipped the rag in the warm water, I decided I wanted to feel clean more than anything. It still felt like there was a film of dust on my skin from the road, even though I knew that probably wasn’t the case. And as he ran the cloth up and down my arms, I couldn’t help sighing because it felt refreshing.

“Let’s get your shirt off,” he said in a hesitant voice. “Should’ve done that in the first place.”

Did he sound nervous, or was I reading too much into it? Or maybe he could tell I had reservations as well.

I raised my good arm so Elijah could slide my shirt over my head and then carefully over my splint, which took some effort. My nipples instantly pebbled from the cool air hitting my skin, and it lent to the intimate feeling swirling around us. Like he was my private nurse or something. How ridiculous.

As if to prove just how absurd I could be, I giggled like a little kid when he attempted to wash beneath my arms.

“Ooh, ticklish. I’ll have to remember that,” he remarked with a chuckle.

When I narrowed my eyes, he only laughed louder.

The urge to beg him off hung from my lips. But I bit the words back because after this, I might at least feel somewhat human again. Rationally, I knew I was wallowing in self-pity from all this seemingly useless lying around, even though the doctor made it unequivocally clear my body needed time to heal. But the soap with the familiar fragrance sliding across my chest and then down my back when he encouraged me to lean forward momentarily suspended my sour mood.

When I felt his fingers on my waistband, my pulse spiked. He pushed my pajama bottoms farther down, and I suddenly felt like a shy teenager again. “What are you doing?”

“If you take these off, I can wipe down your legs and stuff—or you can do it yourself,” he added with a shrug, which made it sound like he wasn’t affected at all. But he wasn’t the one getting naked in front of his friend. Either that, or I was thinking about all this way too hard, which most likely was the case. Obviously too much time on my hands was not very productive.

Elijah only seemed intent on his task, sort of like the times I’d visited him at work. Gone was the rash, gossipy Elijah, replaced by the professional dog groomer. I could tell he wanted to do a good job, to maybe even please me.

Except he had nothing to prove. Had I been way too grumpy these past few days? Guilt lanced through me. I was being a cranky ass when he was doing everything to help. Had I gotten so comfortable around my friend over the years that I had taken him for granted one too many times?

Still, I wavered, feeling insecure about taking off my pants. “I, uh…”

His brows furrowed. “Dude, I’ve seen you naked, remember?”

“Yeah, but this feels like you have to take care of me, like I’m some sort of an invalid, and I…” That wasn’t exactly the truth, but close enough.

“Will you stop? Just…let me get your bottoms off. We’ll be done before you know it, and you’ll feel a lot better.”

Relenting, I lifted my hips, and he slid down my pants, exposing my legs below the material of my boxers. He only gave me a cursory glance before he dipped the rag in the bowl again.

The cloth gliding over my quads made gooseflesh lift the hairs on my legs, but after a few more swipes it felt so relaxing, I finally let go of the rigidity in my shoulders. I bent my head back with a quiet moan as he stroked lower past my knees to my shins and the soles of my feet.

When Elijah dropped the rag back in the bowl and then began massaging an arch, my eyes rolled back in my head. There had been so much tension in my body that the release was overwhelming, even though I still felt slightly on edge about my friend doing all the work. Remembering that fact, I tried to draw my foot away from his grasp. “You don’t have to—”

“Will you shut up already and just enjoy this?” Elijah increased his grip on my heel to keep my leg in place. “It’s not every day I massage a guy’s feet. But damn, you needed this. You’re strung tighter than a violin.”

I kept my mouth shut as his deft fingers moved to my ankle and then gave my other foot the same treatment. By the time he was nearing the end, I was as loose as a wet noodle. He could ask me practically anything, and I’d probably agree to it.

“I know being laid up is killing you, but there’s nothing you can do about it. You have to try to roll with it.”

“Says the guy who bounces around like a ping-pong ball,” I muttered, completely lost in the moment. “No…maybe more like the Tasmanian devil leaving a mess wherever he goes.”

When I cracked a lid, Elijah wrinkled his nose. “I’m not that bad. Besides, I’ve been cleaning up after myself around here.”

“That’s because you know I’ll kick your ass as soon as I have use of my limbs,” I grumbled, feeling a surge of contentment, which was most likely just endorphins.

“Please, you won’t be kicking anybody’s ass. Especially not mine,” he scoffed. “Now spanking I would consider…”

He barked out a laugh when my eyes flew open, so I stuck out my tongue.

“Very mature,” he replied. But fuck, him talking about spanking when I was practically naked was not something I wanted to be thinking about where my friend was concerned. He joked like that all the time, along with how much he loved being fingered and fucked, but in this situation, I didn’t need the extra visual.

When he gently placed my heel down on the mattress, the urge to ask him to do it all over again was on the tip of my tongue. “You might’ve missed your calling as a masseur.”

“Or a nurse’s aide?” He smirked.

“That too—you’re good at taking care of people,” I said, then glanced at Ginger. “And animals.”

“Aw, I think that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me,” he said, but his cheeks were rosy, which told me he enjoyed my compliment. “I’ll grab a pair of clean underwear from your drawer; it’ll make you feel less rank.”

“So you do think I smell?” I bent my head to sniff my pits again. The only thing I smelled now was my vanilla body wash.

He stood to open my drawer, then pulled out a black pair of boxer briefs, and I tensed all over again. I desperately wanted to feel clean, and I supposed that was the price I paid for exposing all my junk.

“Let’s just get those down.” Without even letting me hem and haw about the decision, he tugged down my underwear, and my cock bounced free, shriveled from the cold. I bit my lip and looked away.

I didn’t know why it mattered what the hell my dick looked like right then. Christ.

“I can tell this is uncomfortable for you,” he said in a soothing voice. “Why don’t you do it yourself?”

He wet the cloth and handed it my way. “Thanks,” I murmured, grabbing hold of it, but I didn’t do such a good job, especially when it came to reaching my balls.

“Here, hand it back to me,” he said in earnest. “I like to finish a job I started.”

When my eyes flashed to his, I found no mirth. He was dead serious. For fuck’s sake, he was only trying to help. I nodded as I handed the rag back to him.

He speedily ran it over the area where my groin met my thighs, so I sank back and shut my eyes, figuring it was better not to study his every move.

When he slung the rag over my cock and then encircled it in his fist to stroke the material up and down, I bit back a groan as my cock began filling. Fuck.

“Elijah, I—”

“Stop it, will you? It’s a natural reaction. I know you’re not attracted to me or whatever shit is going through that head of yours.”

When I gave him a cursory glance, his cheeks were bright red.

“Lift your legs up,” he said in a strained voice.

My pulse jumped. “What?”

He groaned. “Just fucking do it. I won’t even look.”

I lifted my legs partway in the air, exposing my taint. Elijah gave my balls one cursory glance and then swiped at me while turning his head. He efficiently cleaned from my balls through my crease, and I shivered from the cool air hitting my skin.

“All done,” he mumbled before tossing the rag in the bowl of soapy water. “You feel better now?”

“Yeah…yeah, I do. Thank you.” And I did. I felt amazing, and it had nothing to do with my dick being stiff as a fucking fence post from all that extra attention.

“No problem,” he said, picking up the bowl. “Let me grab another dry towel.”

When he walked away, my dick still wouldn’t calm down. I tried to count the weeks since someone had touched my junk, because that was all this was. My ex and I had been over for well over seven months, and I jacked off a ton. I’d only ever had one disastrous hookup about four months ago, so that explained that.

When Elijah returned, he wiped the dry towel over my damp skin and then helped me back into my clothes, which was somewhat of a chore.

“Now hand me the remote so we can get back to our show,” he said, sliding in bed beside me and giving Ginger a pat on the head. The dog lifted her gaze before hunkering down again in the sheets.

His thigh felt warm as he got himself situated beside me, and as he flicked on the television, I felt a surge of affection for my friend. I was clean, fed, and more content than I’d been in days.