But as soon as the door closes behind us, Will is on me, pinning me against the wall.
His mouth slants over mine, tongue sweeping along the seam of my lips, and I crumble in his arms like the banks of a river being eroded away.
“It’s been way too fucking long”—his lips find the curve of my neck—“since I was inside you.”
I giggle and he grins into the kiss, unleashing shockwaves of pleasure throughout my body. When a man can make you feel like this no matter how many times he puts his hands on you, then he’s definitely the one.
“It’s been less than forty-eight hours.”
“That’s what I’m saying, Baby—too fucking long.”
Wrapping his hands under my ass, he picks me up and I loop my arms around his waist.
“Where are you taking me this time? And whatever happened to having sex in a bed?”
He quirks a brow, pushing through another door which leads to the shower room.
Will didn’t need the bathroom. He just wanted to get me alone.
He sets me down on a wooden bench and flicks the lock on the door.
“You think I can wait to get you in bed when you’ve been parading around in that cute little tennis dress all morning?” He reaches behind his head and pulls his white polo shirt off in one, easy motion.
His chiseled chest glistens with perspiration and my mouth waters at the sight.
“Spread your legs for me, Drew.”
Ugh, I love it when he turns demanding.
Dropping to his knees in front of me, he pushes up my dress and exposes tiny white shorts underneath. “Tell me these aren’t sewn into the dress.”
A bubble of girlie laughter rises up my chest. “They’re separate.”
He growls like a caveman, hands immediately yanking them down my thighs as I lift my hips and let him have his way with me. My panties are next to go.
My skin buzzes with excitement. Will’s fun-loving, sometimes unpredictable, personality is the reason why I fell for him.
“Don’t ever change.”
My raspy request causes him to halt just before his mouth covers my pussy.
Darkened eyes fueled by desire soften as he gazes up from between my thighs.
“Promise me that it will always be like this,” I continue, “wild sex in locker rooms and the kind of stage frights only you could get us into.”
Will blinks once, and then twice, a quick hand swiping beneath his left eye before he picks me up and carries me into the open showers. Setting the water running, he holds us both beneath the stream once steam begins filling the room.
We don’t say anything more, his full lips resting over mine coupled with the soft pitter-patter of water hitting the tiles renders me putty in his hands.
He looks glorious like this. His dark blue athletic shorts clinging to every muscle in his thighs along with other parts of him that I’m desperate to feel.
My back finds the tiled wall, water soaking into my tennis dress. Unfortunately for my husband, this material is designed not to turn transparent when wet. He soon remedies the issue, though, pulling one of the straps over my shoulder until a breast spills free.
He still doesn’t breathe a word, the rapid rise and fall of his chest conveying every thought in his mind as he takes in my body, pinned against the wall and suspended in his arms.
Every part of me belongs to William Jones.
“Sometimes I wonder if I’m too much for you.” He sounds a little flat.
