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Shower?
I was still waking up when he picked me up and put me under the hot water. I looked up at him in disbelief, blinking as the water came down on me when he joined me and pulled the shower curtain around us.
“Something to learn about me,” I told him. “I’m a Snooze Button Girl.”
He smiled down at me, reached around and grabbed the soap.
What he didn’t do was respond.
I turned my back on him, the best way to hide my naked body.
Why were men so okay with nudity? It wasn’t fair.
Of course, Eddie had a great body. He certainly had nothing to hide. If I had Eddie’s body, I’d probably wander around naked all the time. Not that I had a bad body. I had curves in all the right places. They were curvier a few months ago, when I had time to eat.
“I really don’t like you,” I said to the showerhead.
His soapy hands came around my middle, he pressed his body against my back and his mouth found my neck. “Something Ihavelearned about you, you’re grouchy in the morning.”
“I’m not grouchy in the morning,” I grouched.
His hands at my middle separated. One went to cup my breast, the other to cup between my legs.
“No, you’re grouchy all the time,” he said this like it was amusing.
I was only half paying attention. I was more interested in what his hands were doing. His fingers on one hand did a roll on my nipple as his other fingers pressed deep.
It felt nice.
My head fell back on his shoulder.
“I’ve also learned how to make you sweet,” he murmured against my cheek.
I had to admit, he’ddefinitelylearned that.
I turned my head and ran my tongue down his neck.
I tasted water and Eddie and I didn’t feel grouchy anymore.
* * *
After our somewhat prolongedand unbelievably enjoyable shower, I brushed my teeth, pulled on some underwear and one of Eddie’s clean T-shirts and wandered into the kitchen to make coffee.
I couldn’t find his coffeemaker. In fact, I couldn’t find much of anything.
I went back to the bathroom, knocked on a door that was already opened and entered at Eddie’s call. He was standing at the sink, wearing jeans and nothing else, shaving.
“I can’t find your coffeemaker,” I said.
His eyes slid to me. “I don’t have one.”
I stared.
Everyone had a coffeemaker. This was America.
Even more, Eddie was a cop. Everyone knew cops drank lots of coffee and ate donuts.
I looked at Eddie’s rock-hard abs.
