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“Joel—”
He dropped the towel on my head, rubbed briskly at my curls (briskly enough that they would definitely be crazy in the morning—my curls required gentle drying, scrunch and release and repeat). But I couldn’t bring myself to be upset about looking like I’d jabbed my finger into a light socket hours from then.
Not when Joel was kneeling in front of me, his clothes dripping (mypussydripping), after he’d unknowingly fulfilled one of my biggest fantasies.
Without hesitation.
And then was dressing me and drying my hair.
Also, without hesitation.
“Joel,” I tried again. “Honey, I—”
He tugged the towel off my hair, set about putting on my socks, my shoes, my hoodie. I didn’t miss the fact that he shoved my panties in his pocket. Either he was displaying more of that filthy streak I liked so much, or he wanted a souvenir.
The fucked-up part of me wanted it to be both.
The rest of me wasn’t certain itcouldn’tbe both.
“Joel—”
He stood, yanked off his shirt, sending it to the floor with a heavyplop.
I blinked, momentarily distracted because he was shirtless and some of my favorite parts of him were on display. Strong forearms, thick biceps. Shoulders I knew I could hold tight to…because Ihadheld tight to them, multiple times now. His pecs were squeezable and covered with a light dusting of hair—enough to say man, but not so much as to say gross seventies porn star. A flat stomach that had a faint etching of abs.
Perfect.
A big, sexy man.
But not one who would make you feel like shit standing naked next to him.
Beautiful because he was strong and capable.
Just not model perfect.
A man.
One I wanted to have in my life—
Thwump.
His pants and underwear hit the floor.
And…holy hell, ifthatwasn’t model perfect, I didn’t know what was. Yes, Joel’s body was beautiful because he was all man in a way that was absolutely intoxicating. But his dick was…chef’s kiss. Thick and not too veiny. A well-shaped head. Balls I wanted smacking my ass as he fucked me from behind. Balls that were covered as he wrapped the towel around his middle and strode out of the room.
My brows lifted, eyes going wide. “Umm,” I whispered, trying to process what in the fuck was going on.
The man had just fulfilled one of my biggest fantasies and he was striding right out of the locker room.
Without a word.
Wearing nothing but a towel.
That was…awkward.
But I’d only just begun to realize itwasawkward, had just begun to feel uncomfortable when he walked back in, his arms full of navy blue.
“Umm,” I whispered again as he strode over to me, brushing his knuckles over my cheek.
