Page 47 of Taking Turns

“No.”

“Then how will I know what to expect?”

“We’ll let you know.”

“Don’t you think that sets me up for failure?”

“The failure is half the fun, Chella. Now get your ass in the goddamned shower.”

“What will you do if I don’t obey you?”

Smith smiles. A crooked, devious, devilish smile. “I’ll have Bric handle it. You can’t get your way with me by ignoring my rules.”

“And what will Bric do?” I’m genuinely curious. I’m not even trying to piss him off.

“You’ll have that discussion with him, should you ever find yourself in that position.”

I put the lingerie back on the bed and go into the closet to undress. Smith follows me, cocks a hip against the doorjamb and watches every move.

I slip the dress down and his eyes follow it to the floor. That’s pretty much all I’m wearing, so I place both hands on his chest as I try to maneuver past, through the door, but he slaps them away.

“Don’t fucking touch me again, Chella. I’m very serious about this.”

I let it go. I am tired, I realize. Tired of this game, tired of this day, and I need that hot shower more than he knows.

I start the water and when I look over my shoulder, he’s there again. Watching. Silent. Arms crossed over his chest. Frown on his face.

“Am I not making you happy?”

“Not even a little bit,” he growls.

I let that go too. Maybe when we have breakfast tomorrow he will tell Bric and Quin I’m not worth it. I can’t make them happy. And maybe they will cut me loose.

If that happens… will I fight it? Or will I let it go? Walk out and never look back?

I wish I didn’t know the answer. I wish the answer was walk out. Be strong. Leave this darkness behind before it’s too late.

But I won’t. If they decide I’m not their type or not good enough for whatever reason, I will fight it. I will prove it to them.

“Chella,” Smith snaps. “Stop daydreaming and get in the shower.”

I step into the shower and get my hair wet. The heat feels so good. But when I open my eyes, Smith is dropping his pants just outside the glass door. “What are you doing now?”

He takes off his shirt, throws it on the floor, then opens the door and I step aside to let him pass. “What the fuck does it look like?”

“I thought we can’t touch.”

“I won’t be touching you. You’ve got a big shower.”

Whatever. I give up. We trade places. I rinse my hair and apply conditioner as he soaps up his body. And even though I tell myself I’m not interested in those shoulders, or those arms, or that fat fucking cock of his—which is so hard, it’s climbing up his stomach—I am. I can’t stop watching him.

I think he feels the same way about me. His eyes linger on the thick, frothy bubbles as they fall over my breasts. He stares at my shaved pussy like he wants me.

If he wants me, why does allow Bric and Quin to dictate his behavior with me?

“Are you done with the water?” he asks.

“I have two shower heads,” I say, pointing to the one that’s not in use.