“How am I supposed to go back to sleep if you’re doing something like that?” I ask, nearly breathless from the feeling of his lips on my skin.
He chuckles. “You could come sleep in my room,” he whispers, kissing me again, this time just above my collar bone.
My whole body tingles. “You know I have to help with the baby in the morning…” I say, but my argument is hard to hold on to.
“I understand,” he says, wrapping his arms around me and squeezing into a tight backwards hug. “I’m gonna head inside to shower. I don’t suppose you’d want to come with?”
I stand up and turn around to face him. “Well you got me all sweaty, so technically you owe me a shower.”
A devilish look flashes across his eyes. Even in the dim light of the moon it’s unmistakable. “Come with me,” he says, taking my hand as he stands up. “I’ll get you the shower you deserve.”
I giggle and follow him across the yard to his house. We walk inside quietly and pad up the stairs to Jett’s bedroom without making a noise so we don’t wake up his baby sister. Usually she sleeps in Jett’s parent’s room downstairs, but we don’t want to risk anything.
Upstairs, Jett has the whole place to himself. His room is larger than my own parent’s master bedroom and he has his own bathroom as well.
He slips into his bathroom to crank up the hot water in the shower. I stay behind, looking around his room. Jett has a large bed and then a game room area off to the side, with a couch and a big TV and every gaming console a guy could want. I gaze around, taking in how weirdly clean everything is. Jett’s room usually has at least an old T-shirt tossed on the floor, or ruffled sheets on the bed. Something to make the place look lived in. Instead, he has a suitcase and his gear bag next to the door, and all of his main stuff is inside. Since he’s traveling every weekend, he doesn’t bother unpacking. And we’ve been so busy at The Track this week, he probably only comes in here to sleep.
I walk over to his desk where there’s a framed photo of us. I smile, knowing he has another copy of this picture in his wallet.
“You’re in luck,” Jett calls out from the bathroom. “Your favorite towel is clean!”
“It better be!” I say, joining him in the bathroom. He hands me the folded pink towel. It’s plush like a bathrobe and I brought it over from my house months ago and then never took it back home. Sometimes he uses it and I always tease him when there’s a pink towel hanging on the towel rack.
“I think the water is hot enough,” Jett says, peaking into the glass shower door. He pulls off his motocross jersey and tosses it toward the hamper in the corner. I watch his tanned skin, the bulging muscles of his arms, as he unzips his riding pants and pulls them down. It’s sexy, no doubt, but a little silly because under the pants he wears spandex underwear that go down to his knees and then knee pads and shin guards.
While he takes them all off, I undress quickly, tossing my clothes into his hamper. I’ll just steal more of his to wear back home tonight. I know he wants me to stay over, but I can’t. As soon as the baby wakes up, I’ll need to help my mom get breakfast ready and get Elijah dressed for the day. She’s entirely too busy working at our track while my dad and Jett’s dad take over the other two tracks. My parents have given me so much in the last couple of years, and I’m not about to let them down when they need me.
“How is it possible that you got hotter since the last time I saw you naked?” Jett says. He’s naked now too, his waist creased around where the elastic of his underwear left an imprint. He’s already erect and it makes me blush.
“Shut up,” I say, moving to the shower. Steam fills the air and covers the glass doors. He’s seen me naked a million times, but I’m still self-conscious about it. I slip into his shower and close the door behind me.
Jett comes in a few seconds later, his hands finding my waist and his lips finding mine.
I close my eyes and let the water wash over us while we make out. Then I grab a bar of soap rub it all up and down his chest to get rid of the sweat.
“Once we’re clean we can make out,” I say, rolling my eyes as Jett pulls me up against him.
“I don’t want to be clean,” he growls in my ear just before running his tongue down my earlobe. “I want to be dirty.”
I laugh as chills trail down my skin in every place he kisses. “Let’s get clean first, and then we’ll be as dirty as you want.”
