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“If I was cold, maybe. In all other situations, I prefer not to be soaked in piss.”
He barked out a laugh. “Damn, you’re cute.”
“That’s exactly the right response when imagining me soaked in your urine,” I drawled back.
Another rumbly laugh escaped him, and he lifted me up off the ground without releasing his hold on me. “Come on, we’ve got to get you in the shower.”
With that, he hauled me up the stairs.
My head was buried against his chest, my body so comfortable I may as well have melted against him, and I didn’t protest his carrying me for one damned second.
After setting me down on my feet, he turned toward the shower/tub combo and twisted the handle, starting the water.
“You can shower first.” His hand rubbed my arm. I wasn’t sure whether the gesture was meant to calm him or me, though I would’ve put money on it being for him, whether he realized it or not.
He had said before that I was driven to spend time with him and touch him, while he was driven to protect me and feed me. In that moment, he seemed like he needed me.
“Shower with me,” I blurted.
Shit, maybe I shouldn’t have said that.
It was too late to take it back, though.
“Platonically,” I clarified. “We would both wash ourselves, and keep our hands to ourselves, but would be in there together.”
His eyes brightened so damned much I could actually see his happiness. “Are you sure?”
“Yep.” I bobbed my head.
His lips parted in a grin. “Alright, let’s do it.”
He was so damned excited that I wondered if I’d offered more than I realized. But, after mentally running over my offer, I was forced to admit to myself that I hadn’t. Rocco was just really damn happy about showering with me, even without touching me or being touched by me.
We both stripped, and I tried not to stare at his erection, or his ass, as he tugged those pants down.
“Am I allowed to check you out, or is that not platonic enough?” he asked, kicking his jeans to the other side of the room.
My cheeks heated. “You can look, as long as you don’t touch.”
His grin widened. “You’re welcome to look and touch all you want.”
My face flushed further, but I rolled my eyes at him. “Shocker.”
He chuckled, tugging the shower curtain to the side. I felt his eyes on my back as I stepped into the shower in front of him, and couldn’t help the goosebumps that broke out on my whole damned body as he stepped in behind me, our skin only a breath away from touching.
Grabbing my shower gel, I kept myself occupied by scrubbing my body. My eyes kept drifting to Rocco, and I caught myself watching him wash himself too.
It sounds so much dirtier than it was, but… yeah, he was gorgeous, and something about watching him wash all those damned perfect muscles was incredibly sexy.
He’d inhale deeply every minute or two, and I’d look away as I knew he caught the scent of my arousal. He didn’t mention it—though I could sure as hell smell his too.
We were a hot freakin’ mess, and I didn’t hate it.
Not at all.
We didn’t say much until we got out, both of us insanely hot and bothered but neither of us pointing that out. After we dried off, we grabbed clothes—him a pair of basketball shorts, and me one of his shirts that I’d confiscated—and then collapsed into our separate beds.
Well, he collapsed on the couch, but never tried to push me into sharing the bed or anything.
