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“Yeah.” I rub the back of my head. “Dad remodeled it after my accident.”

She opens the door to the oversized glass shower, nodding to herself. “The bench and grab bars are nice.”

“Yeah, they’re handy.”

She steps over to me and drops her hands to my waist, hooking her thumbs into my pockets. When her eyes flit up to mine, I can see the inescapable lust that we’ve somehow kept at bay all day.

“Handy, huh? I could think of some interesting ways to put those to use.” She teases in that sultry voice that drives me wild.

I let my hand linger at the small of her back, dipping my fingers into the high-waisted spandex that I’ve been desperate to peel off her since the moment I met her at the motel this morning. “I don’t think that’s what they were intended for.”

Looking past Josie and around my bathroom, I realize that I haven’t brought anyone home in the last five years. After the accident, I stayed at my parents’ house for the first few months, which is when my dad did the remodel with Sisi’s design help. Even Sutton came back to help them whenever he could get a few days off. As nice as it is, I still never wanted anyone to see it.

Leave it to Josie to have the perfect reaction and not make me feel self-conscious about the accommodations I need. Judging by the way she’s pressing herself against me, I think she couldn’t care less about it.

She ghosts her lips over my exposed collarbone with a delicate kiss. Her warm breath over my skin, above the neckline of my T-shirt, is like a balm soothing my nerves about opening up my place to someone, even her. When she stands on her toes and drags the tip of her tongue over my neck, letting out a contented humming sound, I shudder, probably a reaction to all the blood in my body rushing to my cock. Hardly anything new when it comes to her.

I crane my neck down to kiss her once. “I know we came here to get cleaned up, but licking each other seems like a horribly ineffective way to do that.”

“Oh, don’t worry. I’m still planning on a shower.”

She lets out an amused hum before running her hands up and under my shirt. Once she pushes it up as far as she can, given our height difference, she taps her finger on my bare sternum, just like she used to. I laugh, reaching down to pull my shirt up and over my head.

“Thank you,” she says.

I bring my mouth to hers again, swallowing her giggle. With her lips parted, my tongue finds the back of her throat, and I start to carefully pull her bra up, being mindful not to snag her piercings. She nips at my bottom lip before taking a step back, creating a frustrating amount of space between us right when I need her touch the most.

“What’s wrong?” I ask. My mind immediately flashes back to our conversation earlier at the overlook when she broke our kiss.

She flashes a wicked grin and gnaws at the inside of her cheek. “I seem to remember you had a request, and I might have brought the right supplies.”

My eyes fly to her bag sitting on the floor by the shower.

Fuck. Me.

I remember exactly what I requested. I pictured what she would look like on video, but the idea of watching her—in person, in my shower—is almost enough to make me come in my shorts right fucking now.

By the time I look back at her, she’s closed the distance between us. My eyes rake over her chest, and yeah—I’m dangerously close to coming in my pants.

“You don’t need to do that for me. You never have to do anything for me, Josie.”

The sane, rational part of me understands that I still don’t know how to handle this particular dynamic of any potential relationship with her. I don’t ever want her to feel like she has to cross or blur boundaries with me.

The irrational part of me—currently controlled by my aching cock—is focused on how she’s dragging her fingers through my chest hair, twirling one fingertip between my pecs.

“It really doesn’t bother you, does it?” She looks up at me, and I shake my head. In fact, I’m proud that she’s found something she loves and is successful. She’s clearly talented at so many things—from the business side to the technical side—all while owning her sexuality and being empowered. I’m proud of her for that, I’m happy for her.

“No, it doesn’t bother me at all. Not that my opinion of you should ever matter because I’m the last person that deserves to make any sort of judgment about your life after what⁠—”

She stands on her toes again and cups the back of my neck, pulling my mouth to hers in a desperate, breathy kiss that she breaks again all too soon.

“Good. I know it was your request, so I don’t need to film it, but…” She hesitates and gnaws at the inside of her cheek again.

“But what?” I pant, my chest heaving because right now—whether she means to or not—she’s torturing me.

“If it’s okay with you, I kind of want to film it. I think it would be hot to know you’ll have it, and can watch it when you want, knowing you got to see it live.” She smirks, playfully batting her eyes, but it’s anything but innocent.

“Again, you don’t have to do that for me.”