That really seemed like a lost opportunity.
“We could shower together.” He cleared his throat. “For efficiency’s sake.”
She looked at him over her shoulder, her phone already at her ear. “I like the way you think.”
This seemed way too good to be true. “You’ll do it?”
“Brace yourself, Lucas. The Boobening is almost upon you.” Then she spoke into her cell, her eyes locked to his as he sagged against the bathroom doorway. “Belle, honey? Don’t expect me back at our room tonight. I have big plans for our tennis pro. If you don’t hear from him again, assume he died as he wanted to live: smothered by my ginormous rack.”
What a way to go, he thought.What a way to go.
Fifteen
Tess casta doubtful look at his shower. “On second thought, I’m not sure we’re both going to fit inside there. I think the stall started its life as a coffin.”
“Oh, we’ll fit.” He reached for the top hook of her sports bra and paused a moment. When she didn’t protest, he carefully tugged the fabric until the hook popped free from the eye, and then moved on to the next one. And the next. “Although I suspect our exit from its confines will look clown car-esque.”
His knuckles were brushing warm, slightly sticky skin. Soft. So soft. More cleavage was coming into view as the vee between her breasts deepened. Soon, he was going to strip off her leggings too, and witness the glory of her ample butt and round belly. Then feel her against him, length to length. Flesh to flesh.
“Clown car-esque?” She snorted. “If you honk my boob or spray me in the face with your flower, I’ll make sure your balloon animal never fully inflates again.”
He paused on the last hook. “Have I told you how much I admire the creativity of your genital-maiming threats?”
When she laughed, her bra’s final hook strained at its epic task. “Discussing potential injury to your date’s dick and balls is the key to an effective seduction, I’ve found.”
He smiled at her. “Well, it clearly worked on me.”
After pressing a quick kiss to that cute ski-jump nose of hers, he released the final hook and tugged the sports bra off her shoulders and down her arms. But he only let himself sneak a quick glance at her breasts before raising his eyes back to her face.
He had to havesomeclass, after all. Or at least the pretense thereof.
Just that one glance was more than enough. The vision of her topless had seared itself onto his brain forever.
Because of their size, her breasts rested low against her ribcage, her areolas large and brown, her nipples tight. They were generous and plush and more beautiful than he’d imagined, and God knew he’d imagined them countless times since she’d plastered them against his back four days ago.
He wanted them in his hands, against his tongue. But more than that, he wanted her entirely naked in front of him for the first time. So he could wait a few more minutes. Maybe.
She stretched a little, and his mouth became the Sahara. “Oh, God, that feels good. Bras are the work of the devil.”
“Feel free never to wear one, then. I’ll fully support your decision.” He flexed his fingers. “Really. However you need support, I’m there.”
“How kind of you.” Her fingers grasped the hem of his shirt, her knuckles brushing his lower stomach, and he drew in a harsh breath. “Raise your arms.”
Lifting his arms and lowering his head, he let her remove the damp tee. He stood stock-still as she traced the lines of his abs and drew circles around his chest.
Her swallow was audible. “I’m…not sure I’ve ever been with someone like you before. If I have, it’s been a crapload of years. Maybe decades.”
She wasn’t meeting his gaze, and her voice had turned subdued.
Nope. He wasn’t letting her go down that particular road again.
“Someone like me?” He pressed his lips against her forehead. “Do you mean a guy with a bum wrist who occasionally hits his head against light fixtures?”
“You’re an athlete. And so—” Another pass of her hand down his chest, to his belly. “So young. Guys my age, most of them look a little different. And women your age don’t look like me. Gravity’s a real bitch, Lucas.”
He took a moment to consider the best way to respond.
“Maybe you don’t look twenty-six. But you look like you.” Covering her hand with his, he drew it down further. Lower and lower, until her palm rested against his eager dick. “You can feel what that does to me.”
