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Josh hooks his fingers on my panties, and tugs them down, over my hips, down my thighs, calves, until they’re gathered at my feet. I step out of them, and with that movement, my bra drops to the floor.
He inhales sharply, his gaze locked on my breasts. His tongue comes out to flick his lower lip, running along its length.
Deep within me, a cord twitches and pulls, tugging at my sex, making my muscles tighten.
“The water’s ready.” His tone’s got that timbre, the one he gets when he wants me. He grabs the door handle to the shower and yanks it open.
Without taking my eyes off his, I step backward into the water, letting the warm drops cascade down my body, throwing my head back, I close my eyes and relish the warmth covering my face, knowing that in this pose, my breasts are thrust forward, inviting, tempting.
When I open my eyes, his gaze hasn’t left me, it travels from my face to my breasts, then down to the tiny patch I left between my legs when I lady-scaped this morning.
His cock is straining against the denim, so hard that it leaves its impression on the fabric. He catches me looking, but I don’t turn away. I’m not ashamed that I want him. I’ve always wanted him.
I raise a hand, inviting him into the shower.
I wonder if he’ll accept. If he’ll strip his clothes off and join me.
I don’t have to wonder long. He kicks his shoes off and steps into the shower, fully clothed. Water starts to spill over his body, drenching his clothes. His hair’s plastered to his gorgeous face, falling back from his forehead, revealing the scar he’s got just below his hairline. The scar from where Isaiah threw a rock and clipped him. That was when Josh was ten. It’s white and defies the suntan that the rest of him has taken to.
He grabs the bar of soap, rubs it between his hands, then takes those same calloused, working man’s hands and covers my breasts with them, cupping me, his thumbs lazily making circles while he weighs my full breasts. He rubs the lather around, leaving white suds and soap streaks on them. The lather starts to slide, down my breasts, toward my hips and nether lips.
With one fingertip, he traces the downward path of the soap until he reaches the top of my mound, his finger gently resting at the beginning of my slit. I’m holding my breath, waiting for the next thing he’s going to do, wanting him so bad. Watching his face as he’s touching me, watching the emotions slide over his countenance, making me want him even more. His white T-shirt is stuck to his flesh, his cock straining against the jeans.
I reach down, unzipping his pants. The fabric is stiff and unyielding, I battle to get his length out. Finally, Josh unbuttons them, helping me free his hardness.
I wrap my fingers around him. Josh pulls air in like he’s been drowning. He’s stiff and engorged in my hands.
“Fuck. Suck me, Cassie. Take me in your beautiful mouth.”
I lower myself in front of him, Jäger forgotten, everything forgotten except for the sound of water and the feel of his cock against my lips. It’s sleek, velvet steel pleading for entry.
Opening my mouth, I take his mushroom-headed thickness in, closing my lips around it, savoring the texture. He groans. “Cassie. I need to fuck you.” He pulls me to a stand.
My lips reluctantly leave his thickness. I rise.
His eyes are like beams of truth-seeking lasers. “I need to be inside of you.”
He spins me around when he says that. Inside, I melt. On the outside, I lean closer, my body molding to his while the warm water cascades around us.
“I need to come in you. I need to fill you up.”
“God, yes.” This singular moaned phrase is all that I can say, and all that can a pant. My fingers slip in front of me, lower, touching my clit, pushing the flesh hood aside, rubbing it in circles. I am so effing close. For a brief second, I think…condom. But right now, I’m past the point of caring and well into the zone of needing.
Josh kicks my legs apart. I feel the tip of his head at my entrance. I hold my breath, mentally relishing and preparing myself for that moment when I’m going to feel him fill me up.
He slams into me with an urgency and an assertion that makes me completely his. I gasp at the sudden fullness and roughness. My body’s pushed even further against the unforgiving surface.
I look at us in the mirror. Behind me, his face is so intent on what he’s doing. He’s looking down, watching his shaft go in and out, his face the epitome of lust and desire. He must have felt my gaze on him. He looks up and catches me watching him.
He pulls out until his cock is just resting at my entrance, pulls me forward a bit, and wraps his arm around me, holding me tight against his body.
“What do you see?” He whispers in my ear, shoving back inside with a force that thrusts me forward toward the glass, but catches me with his arm, keeping me from slamming into it.
“Us.” My answer is forced out with the thrust of his hips against mine, his cock driving in deep.
Fireworks erupt around us.
A thunderous din follows. It sounds like yelling, hooting, hollering.
