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Chapter Eleven
Abby
Levi runs his hands up and down his bare chest, washing off most of the remaining mud. My heart is pounding, my mouth watering, and my eyes glued to every ab gloriously defined in his tanned skin. There’s like eight of them. Did you know guys could have more than six? Seriously. It’s magnificent, the freezing cold water cascading down his stomach, wetting his shorts.
“Abby, reel your tongue back in your mouth, honey,” Grandma remarks with a straight face.
“What? I’m not…no…it’s not hanging out.” Smooth, Abby. Real smooth.
I don’t look up, but can feel Levi’s eyes on me. Instead I take the time to finish wetting my hair. We’re the last two to get the shower, and I’m pretty sure all of the hot water will be long gone by the time it’s our turn. Not our turn, our turn. We’re not, like, showering together or anything.
And now I’m thinking about showering with Levi. My best friend. That would mean we’d be naked together, his impressive erection that I’ve felt against me twice in the last week, very prominent in the shower with us. All week long I’ve thought about how it felt to wake up in his arms with that erection between us. Now that I’ve gotten a little taste of it between my legs–albeit with clothes on–I’ll never get the image out of my head.
Stupid, pesky, unwanted crush!
When he’s fairly clean, he turns off the water and steps forward. Gently, he takes my chin and side of my head in his hands, and turns my head to get a better look at the lump near my forehead. I’m not gonna lie. Getting nailed in the head with a volleyball wasn’t a Sunday afternoon picnic. Oh, it hurt. It just didn’t make me faint the way I portrayed. That little part of my plan just kinda happened, and it worked out perfectly.
“You’ll have a knot on your head for a few days,” he says, his breath fanning across my face making me shiver.
“I’ll be okay,” I croak.
“Of course you will. You’re badass.” His eyes remain locked on mine, his hands unmoving from my face.
“Shower’s yours,” Lexi hollers as she comes out of the house, breaking the moment again.
I take a step back, putting a little distance and breathing room between us. Glancing over at my friend, we both pull out our hands and form a fist. “One, two, three,” Levi counts as we both pound our fists in beat with the counting before throwing out our hand.
“Paper wraps rock! I win!” I exclaim, reaching over and wrapping my hand around his, demonstrating how my paper beats his rock in a game of Rock, Paper, Scissors.
“You cheat,” he says with a smile before nodding towards the back door. “Go. Save me a little hot water.”
I turn to head to the house when I realize my hand is still wrapped around his. “Sorry,” I grumble, dropping his hand as if it were something that slithered. Turning around, I make my way to the house as quickly as possible.
“There are some shirts and shorts sitting on my bed,” Jaime says. “Throw your dirty stuff in the washer. I’ll start it before we eat.”
The hot water feels amazing as I wash the slime and grime from my body. I use my sister’s shampoo and rinse the rest of the mud from my hair. As I wash my body, I can’t help but notice how tingly and sensitive it is. My nipples harden as I run my soapy hand along my body, picturing someone else’s hand as I go.
I should feel guilty thinking about my friend while I shower, but I can’t seem to find the gumption to stop. Instead, I picture how those hazel eyes blazed into my soul when we were lying in the mud. I recall exactly how his body felt against me, his large erection pressed against my center. There was something else to that, but I can’t put my finger on it.
Instead, I go ahead and put my finger on something else. Me. My body is humming with need and wet with want. Between the water and my own juices, my fingers slide easily over my swollen clit. I almost groan with pleasure as lust slams through me. With my eyes closed, my fingers start to move quicker, my breath labored and choppy. It’s his face I see, his touch I feel. It’s the image of my best friend with his hands between my legs, and maybe his mouth too, that causes me to fly over the edge.
Yep, I just had an orgasm in my sister’s shower, with my entire family outside in the backyard. Shame slams into me as I try to control my breathing. I can’t believe I just did that. Not only in someone else’s house, but with images of my friend to carry me over the orgasm threshold. I’m such a loser. No wonder I’m single.
Getting out, I notice the flush to my cheeks. I grab one of the last fluffy towels from the closet and quickly dry off. I didn’t pay attention to what I grabbed from Jaime’s clothes on her bed, and I’m starting to regret that decision now. Glancing in the mirror, the neckline of the tank top hangs down, showing off several inches of cleavage. The shorts are comfy, but much shorter than I normally choose. I should probably switch them out when I leave the bathroom.
Throwing a brush through my hair, I pull my long locks up into another high ponytail. My makeup is all but scrubbed clean, but instead of stealing my sister’s makeup, I opt to just go all-natural. Even though I think my skin’s blotchy, it’s just going to have to be fine for the rest of this evening.
Grabbing the towel and throwing it in the full hamper, I open the door and slam into a wall. No, not a wall because this unmovable object has arms and legs. Levi wraps his arms around me to keep me from falling. “Woah, angel,” his deep voice croons.
“Sorry,” I mumble, pulling back and getting a look at him.
His eyes bore into me with an intensity I’ve never experienced before. My cheeks start to heat up again as I think about what I just did in the shower. His smile starts small and slowly widens into something almost predatory. I swear he knows what just went down in there. It’s like it’s written on my forehead with black magic marker. Diddled to thoughts of you.
“Shower’s yours,” I say, slipping around him and practically sprinting for the doorway. His soft laughter follows me down the hall and all the way down to the kitchen. I’m outside like the hounds were nipping at my heels, and maybe that’s a good analogy for Levi. A hound.
The guy has been sleeping around since he was old enough to figure out what that thing was used for. He lost his virginity as a freshman at fifteen to a girl three years his senior. I know because he bragged about it. Not to anyone, just me. I’m lucky like that. I got to hear about all of his conquests over the years.
Except for recently. He hasn’t mentioned them in a while. Thinking about it, I can’t remember the last one he brought up. Susie, maybe? God, she was last summer. I know he still gets around. The proof is in the pudding; or in the way that gorgeous woman snuck out of his apartment not too long ago. But he didn’t brag about it; didn’t even mention it.
