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He takes a small step toward me, his arms still hanging at his sides. “You’re beautiful. Soaked with rain, in the shower, all dressed up, or after a day of cleaning. It doesn’t matter what state of you I see. They’re all beautiful.”
“I’m a sure thing, Kincaid,” I joke. My voice wavers, which is a dead giveaway that his mere presence is affecting me in ways I can’t hide.
“Can I touch you?”
“You don’t have to ask me that. We’re in this together, right? Just you and me?”
“Just you and me.” He nods.
“Then, while we’re active with our benefits status, you never have to ask me.”
“That’s dangerous, Palmer,” he says, stepping closer, his hands landing on my hips.
“I’ll take my chances.”
I stand still as he slides his hands up my sides, slowly, methodically. When he reaches my breasts, he tweaks my nipples, one then the other, before bending his head and pulling one tight bud, then the other into his hot mouth.
I brace my hands on his shoulders as he takes his time nipping and lightly sucking, which is driving me insane with desire for him.
His lips leave my breast and begin their journey again. This time it’s over my chest, my neck, and finally his lips land on mine. He kisses me slowly. He takes his time, tracing my lips with his tongue.
“Brooks.” His name is a plea, but I’m not sure what for. I need more of him, but at the same time, this is good too. Just him and me, and his hands and mouth anywhere and everywhere he wants them to be. It’s erotic and sexy, and after all these weeks, I feel like tonight might be the night I get to feel what it’s like to have him be a part of me. Something that, regardless of how this ends, he’ll never be able to take from me. I’ll forever have the memory of this night with him.
“What do you need?”
“You.”
He pulls his lips from mine and bends so we’re eye to eye. His dark blue irises study me intently. He lifts his hand and pushes my hair back out of my eyes, and I mimic the gesture to him. “You have me, Palmer.” The way he’s looking at me, it’s as if those words mean more than they do. At least that’s how my traitorous heart takes them.
“You inside me.” My words are bold. That’s how this man makes me feel. As if I could ask him for anything, confide anything to him, and he would give it to me if it was within his power, and those secrets, locked in a Brooks vault, kept just between us. It’s heady and scary and exhilarating all at the same time.
“We didn’t bring your shower stuff in with us.”
“No biggie,” I tell him.
He reaches behind me and grabs his shampoo. “You’re going to smell like me.”
“Good.”
He chuckles lightly while placing shampoo in the palm of his hand before returning the bottle to the shelf and proceeds to wash my hair for me. I’m ready to ask him why he’s ignoring my request, but before I can, he explains himself.
“I promised you a shower. I didn’t know that I’d be privileged enough to shower with you, but now that I’m here, I’m taking full advantage of taking care of you. Something I know you don’t let many do. For some reason, right now, you’re letting me.” He massages my scalp with his fingertips.
“That feels good,” I tell him. My arms wrap around him and pull him close to me. Our naked wet bodies are aligned, his hard cock poking me. He’s turned on but continues to ignore the fact.
“Are you trying to make me lose control?” he asks.
“What?”
“You’ve got your naked body plastered against mine, and, baby, I don’t have a condom in here. I’m trying to clean you up like I promised before I drag you to my bed and dirty you up again, but you’re making that damn hard.” He kisses the tip of my nose. “Head back,” he says, running his hands through my hair, helping to rinse out the shampoo.
“Good enough,” I say, twisting to turn off the water. Pulling back the curtain, I step out and toss him a towel, then twist my hair in one, and use the other to dry off before wrapping it around my body.
Brooks steps out of the shower, running the towel I gave him over his hair. Once he’s satisfied, he tosses it into the hamper and then tugs the one around my body, gripping it and tossing it as well.
“What are we doing with this?” he asks, pointing to the towel on my head.
Tilting my head to the side, I pull the towel off and hand it to him. “Where are the condoms?”
