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The dildo.
He’s in my shower with the dildo I used earlier.
All seven and a half inches of it.
Maybe there’s a chance he used the shampoo and didn’t notice the silicone penis suction cupped right next to it.Sure, Avery, maybe the man is blind.
Dammit. There’s nothing I can do about it now except be mortified. It’s not like I can distract him, open up the glass door to the shower, and pull it out. Right?
Deep breaths, he’s oblivious and didn’t see a thing. Calm your tits. Act like everything is normal and the man you have a massive crush on isn’t showering with your spare penis. Everything’s fine. It’s fine.
I reach to grab his clothes, fully intent on ignoring everything that’s happening in the direction of my shower, including objects that may or may not be in there, when I hear a ragged groan.
No. Fucking. Way.
Is he jacking himself off in my shower? In front of my dildo?
I peer around the open bathroom door for a quick peek, just to confirm that I’m not completely imagining things, and my eyes nearly pop out of my head.
The glass door is steamed so I don’t have the best view, but Foster is very clearly turned to the side, his dick jutting out in front of him like he’s about to joust.
His head falls back under the spray of the shower and his hand is working his shaft with slow strokes.
His breathing is heavy… or is that me?
“Are you going to stay out there listening, or are you going to join me in here?”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
“I… umm… I was just coming in to get your clothes,” she stammers, and even though I can’t see her, I know her cheeks are turning the cutest shade of pink. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“Get in here before I come get you,” I growl, opening up the glass door and giving her a look that has her plopping my clothes back in the sink and stripping out of hers.
Her shirt and bra are the first to go, and I’m so distracted by her breasts, I almost don’t notice she isn’t wearing panties—just like I asked. She’s got three seconds to get her ass in here before I storm out and get her.
She bites her lip and looks at me tentatively, her gaze bouncing around the shower. “Are you sure?”
My chest rumbles with another growl and her eyes widen. “Avery.” I crook two fingers and beckon her to me.She’ll be coming on these fingers soon.
Her tongue darts out, wetting her lips, as she makes her way toward me and closes the door behind her.
All I can do is stare. And stare. Her breasts are fucking perfect.
I didn’t get nearly enough time with them last night.
She shifts under my gaze, stepping back from the spray of the shower and attempting to cover herself, but I knock her hands away and glide mine all over her body, going from the curves of her waist, up over her ribs, and I don’t stop until I’m cupping her breasts with both hands. I memorize how they fill up my palms, how heavy they are, how she moans when I squeeze them.
I run the pad of my thumbs over her tight pink nipples, and she lets out a guttural moan.
She feels so fucking good, and I can’t stop touching her, wanting her.
She whimpers and moans as I pluck at her tightened buds, rolling them between my fingers, pinching, rubbing. I watch every emotion flit across her face as heat builds up between us, threatening to consume us both.
I don’t care.
I just need her.
I wet my lips before leaning down and replacing my fingers with my mouth. I take her nipple between my teeth, biting down slightly before soothing her flesh with my tongue. I lick and suck as she cries out, arching her back, and digging her nails into my shoulders.
