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“No. You can get a towel. They’re behind the door there.” Like he’s suddenly aware of his own nudity again, he grabs his sweats and pulls them back on while I open the oversized cabinet next to the vanity where I assume the towels are.
“Not that one—” He abruptly goes silent when I open the door and see a small array of devices. I go to slam it shut but one tumbles out onto the counter. It hits the on button as it connects with the surface and starts vibrating its way across the counter. Gabriel McGregor—my Gabe—has a vibrating cock ring. And a whole host of other sex toys.
He snatches it up a second later, turning it off and tossing it back into the cabinet with the rest of its friends. Then slams the door shut.
“I meant the closet. Not the cabinet.” He reaches across and opens the closet door where an array of fluffy towels are perched on shelves, looking completely G-rated.
“Was that—” His hand slams over my mouth, and he reaches across me, grabbing a towel, shaking it open and pressing it to my chest.
“I’m begging you to put this towel on and just walk out of here. We can pretend like the last five minutes never happened. File it next to the things from last night. Okay?”
I close my eyes and nod, taking the towel and wrapping it around my body. His hand slips free from my mouth, and I turn to look at him. I try hard not to smile, but half of one appears anyway, and his jaw ticks.
“Just get dressed.” His eyes close, and I don’t dare say another word. When I reach the door he adds, “I’m gonna shower. Then when Gin gets home, we can get dinner.” He’s moved into dad mode where he’s bossing me around like a misbehaving child. I’m still processing all of this and not in a mood to fight it, yet.
I nod again, grabbing my clothes off the bench, and scurry out of the bath and across his bedroom.
CHAPTERNINE
Gabe
Icame home early thinking we could chat about how to get her back on the road to her wedding once she got back from her morning run and coffee. Instead, I’m hard as fuck in my shower trying to take the edge off. After last night and then today. I almost told her the second I saw her. Confessed everything I’ve been thinking for years because she’s that fucking gorgeous. And now, I’ll never get the sight of her naked out of my head. A sight that’s making me need to get my shit under control if I’m going to go back out there and act remotely normal.
I keep reminding myself that I can’t touch her. Can’t have her. But she’s all I can see. The way her breath caught. The way she looked at me was as if she liked what she saw.
Fuck.
I run my hand over my cock, and it gives me just a taste of what I really need. What I’ve wanted for longer than I can remember. I close my eyes and imagine slipping into the tub with her, bending over and running my tongue over one of her perfect pink nipples. She moans for me, and her lips part like she’s about to speak.
“I think we just need to talk about this.”
It’s not my imagination anymore. My eyes snap open, and she’s back again, standing in the middle of the bathroom, the towel loosely wrapped around her with her eyes closed.
“Gabe?” she asks when I don’t answer.
“Yeah.” I manage to say, but it comes out rough. Her brows raise, but her eyes stay shut.
“Are you already in the shower? I’m sorry. I just wish you’d come out here, so we can talk. I feel like the tension is killing me, and you haven’t said anything about last night.”
“We can talk when I get out of the shower.”
Her shoulders slump in response, and she starts to turn.
Then I think of doing the stupid thing. Because at this point, I want her. I want to know—need to know—if she wants me back. I can’t sit through another awkward conversation or talk about getting her back to the altar without having that information first.
“Or you can come in here with me and we can finish what we started last night.”
Her eyes flutter open, and her mouth parts the exact way I imagined it would, the blue of her irises shifts down to where my hand is still loosely fisting my cock, and the water rushes over my body. Her tongue darts out across her lower lip and her teeth drag over it in its wake. Her chest rises with a sharp breath and then she drops the towel, every inch of her beautiful body on display, still damp from the bath.
She crosses the space between us in a few short steps, opening the door and slipping inside before she closes it behind her again. She studies my face for a moment, and the sound of the water hitting the tiles at our feet is deafening.
“Are you sure? You’ve been so quiet.”
“I’m very sure.” My eyes move of their own will, drifting down her body, taking in her breasts and the curve of her stomach and hips. She shifts under my gaze, and I reach out for her, pulling her under the water with me.
“Butyoushould be sure,” I whisper as I lean forward to kiss my way down the line of her jaw. “I want you to be really fucking sure.”
“I’m sure,” she answers softly, so soft I barely hear her over the water, but when my eyes rise to meet hers, the look she gives me tells me everything I need to know.
