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Chapter Twelve
Ryan
Last night was fucking torture.
Not only did I know that she thought she was ready to have sex again, but she spoke it with her words, and showed it with her hands.
Good god, the woman’s hands...
We watched our movie, but by the end, I wasn’t sure how much of the flick I could recall, because at some point her hands roamed over my stomach, and my hands roamed down her back and over her ass, which led to a pretty spectacular make out session.
I’d wanted nothing more than to use my fingers to make her come, but I also needed to stand by my word.
I wanted Savannah so on edge that when I finally took her, when we finally took that next step, she’d know without a doubt that we had it.
We had that thing that so many couples longed for.
We had the staying power. We had the ability to fight and love and make it through.
And hell.
I waited this long.
I could wait a little bit longer.
While Savannah slept in, I carefully left the bed to restart the fire before heading to the bathroom to shower. I knew it was only a matter of time before I got direction from Tony, so cleaning up was a must.
Once in the bathroom, I took Savannah’s clothes from their hanging spots—the curtain rod, the towel bar, and the doorknob—and quietly brought them over by the fire. After laying them carefully nearby so they’d dry further, I went back to take my shower.
While washing my hair with my three-in-one body soap, I eyed Savannah’s conditioner bottle sitting on the edge of the tub.
I could do naughty things with that slick coconut goodness, I thought, rinsing my hair. Within a matter of seconds—just from thinking about what I could do—my cock was at full-mast.
Well.
What the hell.
I reached for the bottle and squeezed a decent amount of the white, creamy conditioner into my hand. I put the bottle back where it was, not caring if it was in the same position or not.
If she noticed it had moved and she had questions, she could ask.
Rubbing my hands together, I watched the cream disperse and squeeze through my fingers. Years ago, Savannah had been incredibly wet for me.
I wondered if she would be again...
My cock bobbed and, my eyes closing, I gripped the thickness with one hand, sliding my other down my stomach.
It wouldn’t take long to meet my peak. With the smell of her hair all around me, I could imagine my best friend in front of me, her smaller hands on my cock, moving up and down...swirling at the top...her thumb playing just under the crest of the head.
My groan was low and echoed in the confines of the shower, but I held back from releasing. I didn’t want the moment to end.
Not yet.
I squeezed harder.
Pumped my hand faster, focusing more on the top half of my dick and stopping just at the head.
Faster and faster. Soon, my hips began to move on their own accord, pushing into the tight vise of my fist.
