Page 50 of Her Player

Ryan would have told me to stop being an idiot about it.

He was always better at the forward motion than I was.

“Rhett,” I started, “I can⁠—”

“Let me do this, Victoria,” he said.

It ripped my gaze up to his, the way he said my name like that. All soft and low. Seductive but defined. Like he already made his decision.

Decision on what?

“Rhett,” I whispered.

He used the washcloth to wipe my face, washing my cheeks. My forehead. My nose. My chin.

His eyes found mine once more. “Just let me take care of you, Victoria. Just let me do it. All you need to do is stand here. I promise, that’s all that’s required.”

If only he knew how hard that was for me.

And yet, I did as he asked. I stood there, spreading my legs and lifting my arms whenever he asked. That washcloth roamed along my body until every inch of me was soaped up. He took great care with my breasts, lifting their heaviness away from my chest as he washed beneath them. He rushed the washcloth through the grooves of my pussy, washing away the evidence of our debauchery still slipping down my thighs. Over and over and over again, the washcloth passed along my body until I was certain he washed me down at least twice.

I wiggled my way around to face him and took the washcloth from his grasp.

“Your turn,” I said with a nod of my head. “Turn around for me.”

“Victoria, you don’t⁠—”

I shot him a look and put on my best voice, mocking the tone of his. “Let me do this, Rhett.”

A grin spread across his face. “I don’t sound like that.”

“Yes, you do.”

He scoffed as he turned his back to me. “Okay, maybe I do a bit.”

I giggled as I soaped up the washcloth and pressed it to his back. His head bent forward as I reached up, washing the nape of his neck. If I was going to wash his hair, he’d have to bend down. If I was in my heels, I would’ve been able to reach his head. But without them?

I didn’t have a fucking prayer of reaching the top of him.

All along his body, the soapy water dripped. I took my time with him, just as he did with me. And as I sank to my knees, washing the tree trunks that were his thighs, I realized something.

I didn’t hate this.

Not that I hated it to begin with, but there was a natural disdain in my life for anything even remotely related to love. Not that I didn’t love, but losing someone the way I lost my husband? It left a mark on a person. It changed the outlook of one’s life. I threw myself into raising my daughter; into finding a career for myself after being out of the workforce for so many fucking years. But Brynn was grown now. Gone with a relationship and a life all her own.

I had to stop neglecting mine.

I lifted his cock and washed its length. I enjoyed the way it pulsed in my hand. I had half a mind to lean forward just to take him in my mouth just to see if there was any trace of our intermingled tastes. I resisted the urge, however. He was kind to my body. Respected my boundaries. And so my horny ass would do the same with him.

Jesus, he unlocked something within me that laid dormant for quite some time.

I washed his balls and relished his groans. Watching him lean back against the tiled shower in the locker room as I rushed back up his body pushed a heat through my pelvis that I tried to tamper down. And at that moment, crooked my finger to get him to lean down for his hair, and made my decision.

Despite our age difference, there was definitely something worth exploring here.

I wasn’t sure how long we stayed in that shower together. I wasn’t sure how much time we wasted just standing there, holding one another beneath the hot stream. But when I felt the temperature shifting in the water, Rhett turned it off before I could say anything.

“Stay here, I know where the clean towels are,” he muttered.