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“Okay.” I nod and inhale, but all I can manage is an unsteady breath. “Okay.” I put a hand to my chest and try like hell to slow my racing heart. “I just panicked when I woke up and didn’t know—”
His face is gentle with remorse. “I’m sorry your morning had to start with an adrenaline rush. Definitely not how I was hoping it would begin.”
I nod. I know he didn’t mean to cause this—hell, if anything, I should be thanking him. I just have to get my body to open the memo somehow.
Thankfully, under the coaxing of his firm hands, the tension in my shoulders eases, and the cloud of fear hovering around us starts to dissipate.
Okay, yeah. God. His hands feel good.
I let my head fall back and take a final deep breath, expelling all the rest of my worry at once.
“There’s my girl,” Remy remarks on a whisper, bringing a smile to my face and my neck back to upright.
And that’s all it takes to kick my heart back into an uncharacteristic rhythm.
Remy is practically naked.
I’m talking bare chest, wet hair, water dripping down the firm muscles of his stomach and biceps naked. Only a single white towel around his waist stands between his penis and me and a permanent stutter.
“Y-you took a shower?”
A wry grin forms at the corner of his lips. “We might have had a little accident this morning.”
I tilt my head in confusion, trying to force my body into taking the right cues—you know, the ones that come from him talking to me, rather than the ones coming from my imagination’s rabid attempt to mock up a picture of what I’d be seeing if the towel weren’t blocking my view.
“It was a blowout kind of situation,” he explains, but despite my best efforts to stop perving, I’m still hardly listening.
Good God, the muscles. There are so many of them, and they make the perfect little obstacle course for several persistent drops of water. I don’t know if my screams left him with no time to dry off or if the water is just as desperate to lick around the perfect V muscles at his waist as I am, but I’ll be damned if I haven’t been willing every single droplet that travels that path to be the tipping point to the loosely tied knot on Remy’s towel.
Is he still as big as he was back then? If I could, I’d roll my eyes at myself. It’s not like dicks get smaller—well, unless they’re in cold water or something. But what if it’s bigger?
No, no, it can’t be.
I mean, Remy was eighteen years old the last time I was with him in that way, but surely, a penis is full-grown by then, right?
“I hope you don’t mind, but my clothes are in your dryer,” he continues, speaking words I can barely register around the dirty fucking places my mind is going.
It might be highly inappropriate considering the circumstances, but hell’s bells, I can’t stop thinking about what it was like to be with him. He was my first real lover, and he did not disappoint. If anything, he set the bar really high for all the men who came after him.
Maybe that’s why you almost kissed him last night…
“Maria? Everything all right?” he asks, obviously tiring of his one-sided conversation. I blink out of my walk down Sexy Memory Lane.
“Yeah,” I say, clearing the cobwebs from my throat. “O-of course. I’m fine. Everything is fine.”
He smiles down at me, and I almost hate how there are so many gorgeous parts of him, I can’t even figure out where to look.
In an instant, I mentally put my foot down on the crazy vortex my mind wants to suck me into. I am not going to go there. I can’t go there. My life is a train wreck of epic proportions and thinking about kissing Remy or seeing him naked is the very last thing I need to be doing. I’ve had my fun, but now, well, it’s over. Time to concentrate on the head that doesn’t ejaculate.
“So…you stayed last night?”
He nods, and I swear, his grin almost looks as though he can hear what I’m thinking. For my sanity, I ignore it completely. “You looked so peaceful sleeping.”
I snort a laugh. “Wild Saturday night, huh? I hope you didn’t have plans.”
“I didn’t. But even if I had, this was more important.”
My chest squeezes with memories of just how amazing of a guy Remy is and how it feels to be on the receiving end of it, but I try my damnedest not to pay attention to any of it.
“You should’ve woken me up.”
“No.” He shakes his head. “I did exactly what I needed to—let you get some well-deserved sleep.”
“I feel bad,” I say and step back to put some much-needed distance between us.
