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“Yes! Yes, I definitely need that. Maybe whiskey in the shower, too.” My teeth were rattling against one another but just the idea of a warm shower was enough to make me feel a little better. I followed into the small but light-filled bathroom and immediately dropped my towel, only to realize I was now standing in the bathroom in a bathing suit, which covered about as much as underwear, with Mack. Who, under his towel, was also in a bathing suit—I assumed. I hadn’t actually seen him take the wetsuit off. What if there was nothing under the wetsuit and, as a result, nothing under the towel?
I swallowed. For as much as we’d been fooling around since our second inside-picnic date, most of our clothes had always been on. This was as close to a naked Mack as I had been so far and we were still one date shy of his five date rule.
My heart took up a wild pace against my ribs as he watched me. “Shall I leave you to it?” he asked, leaning over to turn on the faucet. The room filled with the sound of running water, but it was nothing compared to the rush of blood in my ears. Had I been cold? I was no longer cold. I was burning the hell up.
“You–no–I mean, yes, you probably should, leave—shower alone. We should shower alone. This is only date four.” Date four. Date four. Date four. I was not going to have sex with him right now even though he looked good enough to eat.
“You don’t think we can control ourselves?” The question was so low and seductive I felt it in the backs of my knees and I had to reach out a hand to steady myself against the wall. I honestly didn’t know if I could control myself. I’d had trouble controlling myself with him when we were both fully clothed, and in public. Now we were alone in a bathroom and a hot second away from naked. How was I supposed to keep it together when all that separated me from the whole package was a little more than a towel?
The towel in question dropped to the floor, leaving him in a pair of black boxer briefs that left nothing to the imagination. I’d felt his cock a few times in the last week, but seeing it like this, straining against the black fabric, made a whimper roll up my throat. Was shrinkage not a thing?
“You–you’re taking the–the first shower then?” I stuttered, my eyes glued to the bulge. It twitched under my attention and I bit my lip.
“Unless you want to join me. Eyes are up here, by the way.” I heard the smile in his voice.
“They are,” I said, not looking up to meet them. “But your cock is down there.”
He laughed. And then he hooked his thumbs into the waistband of those boxer briefs and pulled them clean down his legs.
“Fuck me.” It was as eloquent as I could manage. Mack was naked. Mack was naked in front of me and my brain was short-circuiting. He was glorious. It wasn’t the first time I’d seen his chest, but seeing it, along with everything else. Long, muscular legs, trim hips, abs, on abs, on abs, pecs that stretched out to his wide, strong shoulders. And the prize between his legs.
“You're staring.”
“Yes.” I was staring. I was going to be staring for days, weeks, months. He was just perfect. And he expected me to be able to control myself? I was lucky to still be upright.
Steam was swirling through the air as the shower continued to run beside us and I knew that I should leave now, before things got way out of hand. Granted, things were already kind of out of hand because Mack was naked. But then he took a step forward and was right in front of me. I leaned in, rubbing my nose over the center of his chest. He smelled like the ocean. My hand trailed up to his neck and pulled him down and we were kissing, tongues moving against one another, stroking, exploring. His hands slid down from my ribs, through the dip of my waist and the curve of my hips. Our bodies fit flush, each dip and rise coming together like two long-separated puzzle pieces.
“Get in, Chase,” he said and I nodded, stepping into the near scalding spray without even taking my bathing suit off first. He followed, clearing the lip of the tub with more grace than I had managed. We stood there staring at each other for a long moment. Me still in the bathing suit. Him naked.
I pulled him under the water with me, his hands at the ties that held my bathing suit together. One tug. Another. And the top fell away. A syncronized third and fourth and the briefs went too.
We were both naked. Nothing separating us but air.
His forehead rested on mine as he looked down the line of my body. One hand smoothed down my middle, from my throat all the way past my belly button, as he looked at me with what I could only describe as reverence. I was happy with my body, but even still I’d had moments of self consciousness with other men. Not here, though, not now, not with him. He cupped my breasts and I arched into the touch, desperate for more but terrified of things going too far. As much as I wanted all of him, I wouldn’t break his rule.
The smooth drag of skin on skin moved up over my collar bones until his hands slid into the soaked strands of my hair. My eyes fell closed as I absorbed the sensations of his touch. He spun me, then I could smell jasmine and lime and he was massaging my scalp as he washed my hair. It was the most tender, and yet wildly erotic, thing that I had ever experienced. I leaned into him, relishing the feel of his strong fingers. More. All I wanted was more.
When he was finished with my hair, rinsing it without letting a single soap bubble get in my eyes, he moved onto the rest of me. A slow and methodical exploration that left no inch of skin untouched. I was a boneless pile of woman by the time he was done.
“Let’s get you dried off,” he whispered, hands still roaming over me.
“But you—”
“I’m fine,” he said without letting me finish.
“Still being a gentleman then?” I asked with a smile as he brushed his lips over mine.
“Trying to be.” He lifted me out of the tub and wrapped me up in another towel that was gloriously warm. A second materialized and he secured it around his waist. I was once again warm—and so turned on I could barely see straight.
We both snapped at the same moment, reaching for one another, mouths coming together with twin groans. The press of skin on skin was heaven. My dreams had been filled with him for weeks and to have him like this now was almost too much for my mind to comprehend.
My towel fell to the floor as he lifted me onto the vanity and then dropped to his knees in front of me. My breath froze in my lungs. He took one foot and kissed his way north along the side of my calf, past my knee, up the length of my thigh. I was panting and, just when I thought he’d kiss me where I needed him most, he took up the same devotion to my other leg until I could barely sit still.
I was writhing and desperate by the time his lips ghosted over my sex. I gasped and shifted my hips, chasing his mouth. And then it was there, a gentle press that set all my nerve endings on fire. He started slow, an easy exploration as I gripped the counter and wondered if it were possible to die from pleasure. If so, I was not long for this world.
He sucked, licked, kissed, and teased until I was breathless and begging. My hands tangled in his hair as one finger circled my entrance, then a second; they pushed inside and a noise I cried out as my ecstasy crested.
“Ohgodohgodohgod, M–Mack.” It was all too much. My thighs clamped his ears and he groaned against me.
