I wish I could tell her how much it means to me that she’s listening to me. How much it means that she actually cares enough to make sure I’m comfortable.
“I just don’t want you to think I’m crazy,” I say, stopping at the bottom of the stairs.
“I’ve always thought you were crazy, Ev.” She laughs when I squeeze the sensitive spot on her hip. I can’t help myself and I dip my fingers into the waistband of her leggings, and she pulls at my jeans. I circle my fingers around her wrist to stop both of us, spinning her around to face the stairs.
“Get in the shower first,” I mutter, and I slap her ass playfully before she sprints up the stairs. I prowl after her, a fire burning in my chest when I get to the top.
She walks backward slowly toward the bathroom, lifting one shoulder before dropping it. “Why don’t you come join me?”
I swallow. “I don’t think I could handle you all at once.”
She laughs and the sound is so fucking beautiful I want to bottle it up and keep it forever. “I don’t think you can handle me at all, Branson.”
I grip her hip, backing her up into the bathroom door. “What do you think you’ll get out of being a brat?”
“Sex, hopefully.”
She tugs on my shirt, pulling me into the bathroom with her before I can argue. I switch on the light, and she stands by the shower, shimmying her leggings down her legs as I watch her. She doesn’t take her eyes off mine when she takes off her tank top and drops it to the ground.
Fuck.
I knew she would be gorgeous naked, but holyshit. Her tits are perfect. Her stomach. Her thighs. Everything about her is perfect. She doesn’t hide a single thing from me, and she just stands there casually in nothing but her panties like she’s trying to test my self-control.
“Shower. Now,” I grunt. She raises her eyebrows in surprise, propping her hands on her hips. I scrub my hand down my face. I need her. I need her more than I’ve needed anything in my entire fucking life. “Please, Scarlett.”
“So demanding, yet so polite.” She tuts, shaking her head. I reach behind her and turn on the shower, setting it to the right temperature. “It’s cute.”
“You’re cute.”
She snorts. “Is that supposed to be an insult?”
“No. A fact.” I turn back to her, and she’s standing naked. In my bathroom. And I’m fully clothed. Fuck it. I pull off my shirt, folding it before picking up her discarded clothes and putting them into two separate piles.
“I am a lot of things, Branson, but I amnotcute,” she says, crossing her arms against her chest, looking . . . well, cute.
“You are,” I say, ushering her into the shower before I take off the rest of my clothes. I watch in awe as she stands under the showerhead, her back to me as she tilts her head back and runs her hands through her hair. God, this woman.
I step in behind her, and she rubs the water out of her eyes. I drop my lips to her shoulder and murmur, “So fucking cute.”
She groans—or more like shegrowlsat me. “Call me cute one more time, I dare you.”
“Cute, gorgeous, stunning,” I say, trailing my finger down the middle of her chest and she backs up into me, her ass resting against my hard cock. I gather her hair over one shoulder, lean in closer. “Devastating.” I dip my finger lower, skimming her belly button until I cup her pussy. “Fucking perfect.”
Scarlett drops her head back on my chest, shutting her eyes. “Kiss me, please.”
I spin her around until her back is against the wall, and I kiss her. It’s deep and drugging and perfect. My hands cup her face, angling it up to me so I can kiss her deeper. Her nails dig into my hair, scratching my scalp, before she drags them down my back. The water pelts down on us, a calming and relaxing rhythm that grounds me to this moment.
I kiss down her neck, biting the soft flesh until she whimpers. I continue my journey down, pulling her nipple into my mouth until she moans, arching off the wall. I press my hand against her stomach, keeping her in place before I sink to my knees in front of her. I kiss the butterfly tattoo on her hip and then the crescent on her thigh. I need to spend an entire day exploring her body, finding all these secret tattoos she has hidden.
I tap the outside of her right thigh. “Put your leg on my shoulder.” Her chest is already heaving, and she licks the droplets of water from her bottom lip. She complies, lifting her leg onto my shoulder. “Good girl.”
She shudders when I bring my mouth to her heat, finally getting a taste of something I’ve only dreamed of. Her body instantly reacts to mine, her back arching off the wall again, and her fingers dive once more into my hair, tipping my head up so she can look me in the eye.
I suck her clit into my mouth, enjoying the delicious sounds that escape her lips in response, but it sounds like she’s holding back. For someone that loves to run their mouth, she’s too quiet.
“You okay?” I ask, slowing down my pace.
“Yes. God. I’m fine. Just . . . trying to breathe.”
