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Quickly searching the kitchen for the perfect weapon, my eyes land on the spray gun in the sink, and an idea springs to mind. Reaching over, I yank it out of the holder and pull the nine-foot-long hose along with it as I point it directly at Owen. “Give me the phone.”
His eyebrows lift in surprise as he glances from the spray gun to me, then drops his arms and holds out his hands in an appeasing gesture. “Just take it easy,” he says softly and slowly steps toward me.
“Stay back!” I yell, steeling my spine and placing my finger on the trigger.
“Now let’s be reasonable about this,” he continues, ignoring my underlying threat and taking another step with an outstretched hand. “Just give me the gun, okay? We can talk about this.”
“Are you crazy? No way.” My grip on the handle tightens, and he pauses to study me for a moment before planting his hands on his hips and shaking his head.
“Oh, come on, Mac.” He scoffs. “You’re not gonna shoot me with that thing.”
“Wanna bet?”
His eyes darken with challenge, making adrenaline pump through my veins.
“Well, come on then. Do it,” he goads, a mocking smile curving on his lips, making my vision turn red. Cocky prick. He’s calling my bluff.
Well, fuck it.
Clamping my finger down on the trigger, water blasts from the spray gun and hits him directly in the torso, a shocked gasp erupting from his mouth.
Releasing my finger from the trigger, the water shuts off, and we both stand in stunned silence for a moment as cascades of water trickle over him and create pools of water at his feet.
Time seems to stand still as he takes in the sight of his drenched frame, his white tank suddenly turning transparent and showcasing every dip and curve of his muscular physique.
Shamelessly drinking him in, I take my time to trail my gaze down over his impressive form. But the minute my eyes land on the crotch of his pants, my breath suddenly catches in my throat. The wet fabric is molded to him like a second skin, outlining every intricate detail of his cock. His very large and very impressive-looking cock. And the thought of what that thing is capable of has my heart pounding in my ears. His eyes suddenly snap up and lock onto mine, the look he is giving me downright predatory, and a hint of fear trickles down my spine. Then without warning, he charges toward me and quickly yanks the hose out of my hand.
“Hey,” I cry, reaching out to grab it back, but he lifts it again high above his head. And for the second time today, I find myself jumping up and down like an idiot. “Give me that.”
“Give you what exactly?” He looks down at me with a devilish gleam in his eyes. “This?”
Jets of water hit me like a torrential downpour, and a shocked squeal erupts from my throat as the ice-cold water attacks my skin like a thousand tiny needles; all the while, he laughs like a madman.
With the phone long forgotten, I waste no time launching myself at him and wrapping myself around him like a spider monkey clinging to a tree. He lets out a grunt, and tightening my legs around his waist, I proceed to maneuver my way up his body.
“What the fuck are you doing?” he gasps, looking at me with wide eyes.
“Retrieving my weapon,” I say, as I grip the back of his neck, then reach up and grab hold of his wrist.
Using the weight of my body as leverage, I lean back and pull his arm along with me, feeling him losing his footing from under me.
“You’re crazy!” he bellows, wrapping a tight arm around my waist as he stumbles forward and plonks my backside down on the edge of the sink.
Letting go of his neck, I use my other hand to pinch the skin of his thumb while trying to pry the spray gun out of his hand with the other.
“Ouch,” he hisses, and let’s go. The quick release of tension sends my body careening backward, and my hand gripping the hose smacks against the tiled wall behind me.
“Ow!” I cry out as a sharp pain radiates through my wrist, and I instantly drop the spray gun, hearing it clank against the sink’s rim.
“Shit, baby, are you okay?” Owen exclaims, his hot breaths fanning over my face as he pulls me toward him. He gently takes my wrist and looks it over, the concern marring his features like a warm summer breeze caressing my cold, drenched skin.
Tingles radiate up my arm from the tenderness of his touch, and my chest starts to rise and fall in quick succession as his close proximity makes the air around me suddenly feel thick.
Trailing my eyes down over his torso, I drink in the way his wet tank is fused against every bump and ridge of his sculpted torso. But when my eyes land on the joining of our hips, the sight before me instantly captures my breath in my throat.
My dress is hiked up to my belly button, and my legs are still firmly wrapped around his waist. The skimpy white-laced panties I’d donned this morning—because my respectable white cotton was in the wash—are on full display and pressed up snugly against his long shaft. And the sight of the two most intimate parts of our bodies being pressed together makes my heart thunder wildly in my chest.
As if hearing the storm raging within my rib cage, Owen suddenly stills and slowly glances down, his jaw going slack and his chest heaving in a shuddering breath upon capturing the sight of our position.
