“How is that…”
He shook his head. “I don’t know.”
There was a brief moment of silence. I didn’t know what to say. How did you share a dream with someone? But then he was looking at me like I was about to be his next meal, and I realized I didn’t give a shit.
“Come here.”
My feet were moving without my permission. The next thing I knew I had shed my underwear and was standing naked in front of him.
Oh. My. God. Where did I start? There was not an ounce of fat on this man. I knew he was fit, all his clothes clung to him because he was proud of his physique—as he should be—but he looked more lean than muscly. Seeing him like this… Good lord, he was muscly.
I had no doubt he could pick me up, throw me around like a doll, and there was nothing I’d be able to do about it—not that I’d want to do anything about it.
I was done for.
“I’d like to take you up on your offer to soap me. If you’re still willing.”
Was I fucking ever. I glanced around the shower, no sign of the unscented soap bar.
“You didn’t grab any.”
“You never said I was required to use the unscented stuff.” His eyebrow rose. “I’ll have you know that I’m a feminist and as a feminist, I’m offended you would even offer it to me. I’m comfortable enough in my masculinity to smell like a flower every once in a while.”
I snorted. “I’ve never smelt like a flower a day in my life. Assuming I have flower scented body wash is, frankly, very antifeminist of you.”
He laughed. “I should have said plant. Because you’re right, vanilla isn’t a flower, it’s a vine. But it has flowers that grow from it. Forgive me.”
I picked up my body wash—vanilla and oat scented.
“You’ll have to make it up to me.”
A fire burned behind his eye as he stepped closer.
“How?” His voice was that same low, demanding tone and I knew I was done for.
“First you wanted?—”
The bottle slipped from my hand as his lips crashed into mine. I could only cling to him. It was the only thing that kept me grounded in reality. The fact that he was here, and alive, and kissing me.
Fuck, he was kissing me like I was his salvation, his reason to live, his only hope.
His hands trailed my sides, over my hips, and down to my thighs. My feet were off the ground a second later, legs wrapped around his waist. He turned to press my back against the wall so we were both under the water.
“You’re so fucking soft.” He mumbled making his way down my neck. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to stop touching you now that I have you here.”
“Less talking, more touching.”
His chuckle vibrated over my skin.
“I can multitask.”
It was true, he was very good at multitasking. One hand in my hair, one running up my side while his lips trailed up my neck and along my jaw. And the grinding, oh my sweet lord, the grinding. So slow, so meticulous, like he knew exactly what I wanted—needed.
“Are you just going to tease me all night or are we going to do this?”
His laugh echoed over the tile. Fuck, how had I ever kept myself from jumping him when his laugh sounded so sexy? How was I supposed to keep myself from jumping him every time Isaw him now? Knowing how good he felt, how wicked his mouth was, how good it felt being in his arms?
“I didn’t realize it was a crime to take my time. Apologies. What exactly is it that you’d like to do? You still haven’t told me about your smutty book, I could act it out for you. Or if you want to verify my claim, I can prove just how godly I can be. Dealers choice.”
