“I think this stove would work for me,” she said, a bit breathless.
Oh, fuck, he loved her ass. Always had. Even back in high school, when he’d only appreciated it in a platonic way, he’d acknowledged its superiority over all other asskind. Her sweet breasts might be small, but her booty and hips…they were lush. Profligate and welcoming.
His appreciation could no longer be termed platonic. Not in any universe.
He tried to back away from the amazing, horrible contact, but there was nowhere to go, not without messing up the shot. And the camera operators kept saying they needed a different angle or that the mic had malfunctioned, so there they were, butt-to-butt, for minutes on end, as Lucy moved a bit from side to side, pretending to work in the kitchen as she chatted with Allie.
It felt like a tease. It felt like heaven and a very specific kind of hell.
Seemingly years later, Jill spoke again. “Good. Let’s set up the next shot in the bathroom. FYI, Lucy, the shower is kind of small. I have no idea how a larger person would fit in there. Or two people, for that matter.”
“Maybe we should…” Lucy blinked up at him. “Maybe we should test that out? In case I ever had, um, special company?”
She wanted to know whether she could fuck in the shower? He could show her. He’d bedelightedto show her. Even if the space was too tight for full-on penetration, he could get to his knees and brace her against the wall, her legs over his shoulders as he?—
No. No, no, no. He dropped his chin to his chest and took a breath.Friends. You’re friends. Don’t let her know you want anything more.
So he crowded into the tiny, surprisingly clean shower stall with her, cameras rolling, and prayed that she—and they—couldn’t detect his reaction to such potent temptation. MATLAB simulations. He’d think of MATLAB simulations, rather than the press of her breasts against his chest or the sounds she’d make when he licked her open under the shower spray and sucked her clit so gently into his mouth?—
“Seb?” she whispered. “You smell really good. Do you use cologne or aftershave or…?”
“Umm…” He couldn’t remember. At this point, he probably smelled like nothing but pheromones and desperation. “Not sure what I used this morning.”
“Maybe if we”—she rubbed against him as she slipped her arms around his waist, and his eyes nearly rolled back in his head—“maneuver a little, we’ll be a bit more comfortable. Just give me a moment.”
Hell. He really had descended to the fiery depths of Hades, where well-intentioned men who were trying their best to control their emotions and their disobedient cocks got tortured for their efforts.
For a decade and a half, he’d kept things light. Casual. Made sure he didn’t reveal the intensity of his feelings or how they’d shifted with the years and puberty.
And this was how he got rewarded? Motherfucker.
She was still squirming, her softness breathtaking against him as those agile massage therapist’s hands slid from his back to his shoulders. “Nearly there. I just need to?—”
When her elbow hit the shower handle and icy water poured down on them both, he was almost grateful.
FIVE
As they lay togetheron the bed, Lucy made sure she spoke directly into Sebastián’s ear, cognizant by now of just how sensitive that damned boom mic was. “We’re basically in the dick-lover’s Sistine Chapel. You realize that, right?”
Okay, maybe she wasn’t getting so close only because of the mic.
She wanted her mouth near him. She wanted her mouth on him. And holy goddess of fiery lust, she wanted his mouth onher, anywhere and everywhere.
He hadn’t relaxed since that first butt-to-butt contact earlier in the day. His shoulders had bunched into round masses, and that vein in his temple kept throbbing, throbbing, throbbing. He was either really irritated, really uncomfortable, or really turned on.
The problem: She didn’t know which. And he wouldn’t tell her.
She’d gotten a sense of his physical state in the shower, but that could have been fleeting and impersonal, the generic reaction of a straight man pressed up against a woman. Anerection, as she knew, didn’t mean much. It was a physical response to stimuli, not a sign of specific desire or deeper emotions. Without the context Sebastián wouldn’t give her, it meant nothing more than those scrawled drawings of dicks.
And balls, she quickly added.Mustn’t neglect the balls.
“I’m trying to appreciate this singular cultural opportunity.” His voice was bone-dry, and his body against hers was tense and exuding heat, despite the lingering dampness of their clothing. “I hadn’t expected the kids to create such a masterpiece on the ceiling of the back of the bus. Consider me impressed by the level of detail and the sheer quantity of penises.”
“Michelangelo could have taken some lessons.” She grinned. “He missed an amazing opportunity to replace those touching fingers with something else, for example.”
When a rare chuckle rumbled in his chest, she shifted to see his expression and almost fell off the bed. His left arm flashed out just in time, though, catching her and pulling her back against him.
“Thank you.” She stayed on her side, facing him. If one of her breasts was now nudging his arm, well, that wasn’t her fault. It was an issue of safety, above all. “I don’t want to land on that floor.”
