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“Stay,” she commands. “Shut the door.” She reaches in and turns the faucet back on. “I don’t want your brother to hear us.”
“Baby, I’m sorry I’m not good at relationships. You aren’t just my first sexual relationship—you’re my first relationship.”
She erases all the air between us. Suddenly, I’m thirsty for the water beads standing in perfect arches on her shoulders. “I want you to be safe. Isn’t a boyfriend supposed to protect his girlfriend?” I slide my arms around her back on top of the towel. Our foreheads meet.
“Is that what I am, your girlfriend?” she asks as her breath catches.
“Yeah, baby. That’s what I meant when I said it ‘can only be me.’ Do you want to be mine like I want to be yours?”
She drops the towel. “Yes. But you can’t tell me what to do. I’ve always been independent—I’ve had to be.”
“Tay, there’s a difference in telling you what to do and caring about what happens to you. I admire your tenacity.” She pushes against my chest as I scan her body. “Can we play hide the sausage now? I hate to waste all that hot water.”
Talynn rips my shirt over my head, and I quickly discard all remaining clothing. She steps backward into the shower then I step in.
“I’ve never had shower sex,” she says in a velvety sultry voice. Second arrow to the heart. I want to be her first at something.
“Me neither.” I wiggle my eyebrows because obviously.
We soap each other up at the same time before the game is on. She drops to her knees and does something so personal that I almost explode. I pick her up and pin her back against the wall. I lower her onto my shaft using the wall for leverage, I pump into her while smothering her with the sloppiest kisses imaginable. They’re hard, uncontrolled. I want more.
“You’re incredible,” she pants, almost breathless.
I hold her up with one arm while using the other between to give her the friction she needs. My thumb and finger pinch her nub and she shrieks, “Yes.”
I let go of her mouth, biting her shoulder as she scratches trails of need across my back. I suck her neck, not thinking what marks I may leave her with. I keep pinching and I receive more enthusiastic moans.
She slips down the wall, making me lose my hold, so we reposition. She turns before I ask, placing her hands on the white tiled wall. After moving the long wet hair over her shoulder, I use both hands to explore her back before pressing into her. She’s slick—and not from the water. I don’t have to bend much because her legs are so long, and I love every inch.
“God, yeah, harder,” she pleads as he glances over her shoulder. I grab a section of her hair and wind it around my fingers while pressing her back down.
We go so hard. The shower is not muffling her cries—if anything every slap and grunt is amplified. It’s the acoustic version of sex. Her muscles clamp around me. I groan so loud that the shower stall shakes.
I collapse on her back, securing her with my forearm around her stomach. I rest my head on her shoulder. The energy is gone but in its place is a current so strong, I can’t deny it—I’m in fucking love.
ChapterEighteen
TALYNN
“Areality show? Us?” I’m in utter shock. “Thanks, Nic. I’ll talk to him when he gets home.”
After disconnecting the phone, I drop to the couch. How did I end up here? Just months ago, Archer found me and brought me to Sarasota for his proposal to my sister, a hurricane produced Tackett as my roommate, and now I’m in a relationship with him that makes every day brighter and definitely hotter. But a reality show?
We’d be perfect for a reality show. We’re both fun, and I’m on the sarcastic side but most of all, we’re easy going. We could show what real relationships look like. The only problem Tackett and I have is distance. We both hate it when he’s on an away series. We’ve been dating for over a month, and he calls me three or four times a day.
He’s been ripping the ball lately, and Megan says the Kodiaks may come calling after the All-Star break. If that happens, I don’t know what I would do. I have co-workers, but nobody in the same phase of life as me. Most are married with families.
I change the sheets in my room. We’ll do it in his room first, then I’ll throw his linens in the wash, so we can sleep in my room. He loves my room, and now it’s filled with fresh flowers that he sent me this week.
Missing him is a sickness. My body doesn’t function properly when he’s not around.
I hear his keys rattle in the door. I run out of my room, down the hall, and to the front door; as always, I leap into his arms with legs wrapped around him like a pretzel. I smother his neck with my lips until he kicks the door closed and we kiss like love-sick teenagers. He drops his bag and carries me into the hallway. “Which one?”
“Your room.”
“I always loved to bed hop when I was kid. Doing a flying belly flop from one bed to the other in hotel rooms,” he says before setting me down and ripping off our clothes.
Our first time having sex was the best I ever had, but each time gets better and better.
