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It had felt good to not be standing in that room alone.
It had felt really good to have her next to him, her body heat seeping through the sleeve of the arms pressed along her side. She smelled good. She’d always smelled good, though, but something about it went straight to his head now. It made him want to draw her close, bury his face in her hair, breathe her in.
The shower switched off.
He’d made a mess of the knot. He undid it, staring at himself in the mirror. His eyes betrayed him once the bathroom door opened, sliding over with no short amount of expectancy to her toweled shape as she joined him in the bedroom. She was scrunching her wet hair in her hands, pushing it against her head, and he paused his hands to frown at her.
“It makes it curly,” she explained with a smile.
She had a very pretty smile, showing off pearly white teeth in neat rows. She had a very pretty mouth, too. Lips full and sensuous without her even trying. Sometimes there was a slight pout on them, but nothing too severe. As though pouting was a habit she’d had with her from childhood, one that she hadn’t quite been able to break. Or grow out of. Or, tantalizingly, one that she hadn’t wanted to break or grow out of. One that she’d kept, because she’d noticed how effective it was. How it affected people when she did it. He wanted her to have that in her, for some reason. The ability to read people, to adapt herself to them.
Could she read him?
Had she been able to read him better than he’d understood himself? Had she known before he did that he’d wanted her in his life so badly that it drove him away from her? Because he could feel it now, that tug that had always existed between them. How it had tugged at his heart until he couldn’t take it anymore. And she’d ended up dating Nikolai. Strange thought.
“How did Nikolai get you to go out with him?” he asked.
She was sitting on the edge of the bed, hands still scrunching. She paused to look over at him.
He was undoing the knot for a third time, waiting for her to reply.
“You make it sound like he forced me,” she said.
“Didn’t he?”
“He was persistent,” she said.
“He nagged you?”
Her smile widened.
“You could say that,” she agreed. “He showered me with gifts, flowers, attention. The usual stuff, I guess. And I’d not dated anyone before, so I didn’t know… I mean, I knew what a woman should want, so I thought that was what I wanted.”
“It wasn’t,” Zeke concluded.
“No, I guess it wasn’t,” she said.
“You’d want one rose, at most,” Zeke stated. “One of those rainbow ones.”
Her eyes warmed. The expression went right into the very center of him. He found himself staring at her pretty smile and pretty mouth and tore his gaze away, looking down at the abysmal tie, trying to pull on it to even the length.
“I love the rainbow ones,” she conceded.
She seemed to be done with her hair because she rose to her feet.
His entire being seemed to home in on the movement. His eyes drifting to the curve of her shoulders, her skin still damp. His cock twitched at the thought of pulling on the towel, making it slip off her, exposing her. He’d drink her in, then he’d make her lie down before he’d taste her, and taste her, and taste her until she was a knot of ecstasy coming undone against his tongue.
He'd make her see how good it could feel.
Make her give herself over to him completely.
Make her his.
He pressed a hand against his growing erection, trying to force it down. He drew a deep breath, keeping himself from sighing it out, not wanting to draw her attention.
What would her tongue feel like against the tip, circling it? What would her mouth feel like around his cock, taking him into the heat of her? Would she moan around him? His cock swelled excitedly at the thought, his palm applying pressure proving little use against his overactive imagination.
“I need a shower,” he said, not looking at her as he turned and headed straight into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.
