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Steam billows out as Al sticks her head out. Then her gaze lands on me. “Oh, you’re still here.” She grimaces.
Her hair is wet, her cheeks are flushed, and while I can’t see her body, I have a good enough glimpse of her neck and shoulder that it’s clear she’s not wearing anything.
“Why wouldn’t I be here? I said I wasn’t going anywhere. Not with a hit being out on you.” I twist a ring on my finger as I struggle to remain calm. Typically, that’s a fairly simple task for me, but Al is naked and feet away from me. Sure, I can’t see anything, but my imagination is going wild.
She sulks, and it’s the most fucking adorable thing I’ve ever seen. “Whatever. Can you like …? Can you …?” She suddenly shakes her head. “You know what? Screw this.” She opens the door, revealing that she has a towel wrapped around her and nothing else. “This is my room, and I don’t need to feel uncomfortable. You can.” She walks out of the bathroom with her chin held high.
My attention zeroes in on her smooth, bare, long legs that are nearly completely exposed. I’ve spent many years imagining what it’d be like to have those legs wrapped around me. I’ve dreamed about it. Craved it.
“Why would you walk around in a towel make me feel uncomfortable?” Despite how riled up I am on the inside, my tone flows out evenly.
She fires a death glare at me as she yanks open the top drawer of her dresser. “Because I …” Shaking her head and flustered, she starts rummaging around in her dresser.
I press back a smile. God, I miss seeing her like this, all full of fire. She hardly spoke to any of us after I lied and told everyone we had sex—to protect her. As soon as we’re married and she finally belongs to me, I’ll tell her.
I should look away. After all, the fate ceremony hasn’t happened yet, so we’re all still at risk. But as my eyes trail across her legs to the edge of the towel that barely covers her ass, my restraint snaps.
“You’re flustered,” I remark as I stand up and approach her. “Just like you were the other night when I helped you take off your boots. I guess that wasn’t really flustered, though. That was more of you being riled up with need.”
She pauses then looks at me with her forehead creased. “What are you talking about …?” Recognition slowly clicks, and she returns to giving me a dirty look. “I was drunk, so that doesn’t count.”
I stop inches away from her. “Of course it counts. In fact, sometimes when people get drunk, they’re more truthful.”
She grabs a lacey piece of fabric from the drawer then slams it shut before spinning toward me. “Okay, well, maybe I was being truthful that night. But the truth is that I was just horny, and I would’ve gotten flustered over any guy who touched me.”
My brain momentarily short-circuits as the wordhornyleaves her lips. I’ve never heard her say anything like that before. It doesn’t appear to be a regular thing, either, since her cheeks bloom with pink.
Fuck, I’m so damn hard right now.
Stop thinking about her like that.
Stop thinking about her legs.
Or how water droplets are beading across her skin.
“Why are you staring at me like that?” she questions in a snotty tone. “Stop it.”
I want to, for now, anyway. But my eyes won’t cooperate.
Shaking her head, she mumbles, “Fine.” Then, keeping the towel on, she begins to slide the lacey panties up her legs. Her head is tipped down, and her teeth are sunk into her bottom lip.
She is so damn gorgeous.
My hand grows a mind of its own and reaches out, tucking a strand of hair out of her eyes, the movement carrying more gentleness than I’ve ever possessed.
Allura lifts her gaze to mine, her lips parting.
I want to devour her, rip the towel off, and thrust into her.
I want her to be mine.
I’m about to ruin everything.
“Sorry,” I mumble.
Then, even though it’s agonizing, I turn away from her and sit down on the bed with my back facing her.
I hear the shuffling of fabric and a soft bang before she moves back into my line of vision. She’s dressed now in a pair of wide-legged jeans and a gray crop top.
