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While I know it was the right thing to do, my body is not happy with the decision. It lets out a fierce shudder as I reach for my robe, but then, Griffin catches my wrist.
“Only if you’re in here with me.” He pulls me toward the shower with him.
I shake my head and smirk. “I’m trying to do something nice for you.”
“I can’t relax in here if I know you’re out there shivering. If you want to do something nice for me, get in here.”
He doesn’t have to tell me twice. I nod eagerly, desperate for the relief I know the hot water will bring.
The shower stall is tiny, and instead of a fixed shower head, there is a moveable shower wand. It’s similar to the one in my bathroom at my parents’ apartment. The same one I’ve placed between my legs multiple times while thinking about Griffin.
Griffin lifts the shower handle and water starts spraying out. He slides the temperature handle to the warmest setting. It’s like he knows scalding hot showers are my love language. I’d propose right here on the spot if we weren’t already married.
“Come here,” he says, and I hurry under the now steaming spray.
When the hot water hits my skin, I close my eyes and sigh. The water runs over my back, washing away the soap. Next to me, Griffin edges closer, letting the spray hit his shoulders and back.
My body melts. My tight muscles relax, and my skin turns rosy.
“Better?” Griffin rumbles against my ear.
“Yes.” I nod, trying to ignore the way his husky voice makes my core clench.
When my body was cold and desperate for warmth, it was easier to ignore the fact that we’re nearly naked. After rubbing up against Griffin in the bathtub, I’d somehow gotten used to our naked bodies pressing together. In front of Shonda and Kandi, I’d done my best to focus on the photoshoot, and tried to not think about how attracted I am to him. But now, there’s no audience and as my body has warmed, I’ve become increasingly aware of all of Griffin.
He’s beside me, slightly angled behind me, his torso and hip graze my side as he leans farther into the spray. We’re still wearing our underwear. And where I’d tried to be discreet about ogling his crotch earlier, along with the bubbles from our bath, the warm water has washed away my restraint.
Without moving my head, I drop my gaze between his muscular legs. Where there had been a bulge before, now Griffin’s cock is unmistakably hard. The briefs can barely contain him, his swollen crown only a centimeter from the waistband. The thin layer of wet material reveals every ridge and vein.
I think about dropping to my knees, tucking my fingers into the waistband of his underwear and pulling him free. How I want to feel the weight of him in my hand, to lick along the large vein on the underside, slip the crown between my lips and suck hard.
While my thoughts were running wild, I must have lost the ability to carry out this dick ogling mission covertly because when my eyes lift, Griffin is staring back down at me. His green eyes drop below my neck. I guess it’s only fair he gets to check out my breasts, since I can now sketch his dick from memory.
He doesn’t look long, though.
A moment later, he reaches up to take the wand out of the holder.
“You missed a spot. Turn around.” I do as he says. He holds the wand to spray against my chest, letting the warm water cascade over my breasts.
I don’t think I missed a spot, but the extra attention feels nice. The way the water hits my nipples sends another rush of arousal between my thighs.
Griffin doesn’t stop at my breasts. He slowly lowers the wand, down my ribcage and over my stomach until it hits the waistband of my thong. He keeps it there. The pressure of the water causes a dull ache in my belly. My clit throbs with the anticipation of him moving the sprayer lower.
“Should I keep going?” he asks.
It’s his same words from last night, asking me if I want what he’s offering.
“Yes.” The word is barely audible over the rush of water, but I know he hears me because he lowers the wand between my thighs.
My breath comes out in a rush, my hands move to Griffin’s arms to steady myself. The sensation of the sprayer is even better with him holding it against me.
My hands move over his chest, running my fingers over his tight nipples and then trailing lower toward his waistband, but when I get close to dipping beneath, Griffin gathers my wrists and lifts them above my head. He presses me backwards until my ass bumps against the tile. I’m pinned to the shower wall. His hold is firm, but not painful. It’s like he knows how to assert his strength without overwhelming me.
“Is this—”
Even before the words leave his mouth, I know what he’s going to ask. I can see the concern in his eyes. The question if I’m comfortable with what we’re doing.
“Yes.” I nod. “I want it.”
