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Kiss me.
Kiss me.
Kiss me.
Horror filled me at the thought, my eyes growing wide.
Don’t kiss me.
Don’t kiss me.
Don’t kiss me.
I panicked. He was my roommate. We’d both already crossed a line this morning. I’d been too blinded with rage to realize it until now . . . when I was breathing in his air with his body pressed against mine.And we’re both completely naked.Shit.
“You don’t seem like you’re in a hurry now.” I’d meant it to come out as an insult. Instead, I might as well have asked him to come back to bed with me.
Eyes locked.
Chests heaved.
Something thick and potent swirled between us, so strong it was suffocating.
My head fell back against the tile. The irritation disintegrated to a near non-existent level. What was left of me felt exhausted and weak.
He eased closer until our lips were mere millimeters apart. “Tomorrow and the next day and the day after that. Every day from here on out. I go first. You feel me, Easy?”
“Easy?” I shoved at him with all my strength, but it was useless. “How dare you say such a thing to me? You don’t know if I’m easy or not.” Just like that, the anger was back, exploding from my pores.
He grinned and lowered his arm to keep me caged as I tried to duck underneath. “Easy On The Eyes.”
The first time he’d called me that I’d wanted to crawl in his lap and beg him to do again. Something about the way he said it made me want to purr and rub up against him, and I freaking hated cats.
“I’m going to be late for work,” I huffed. I had no idea what time it was and, at this point, wasn’t sure I really cared.
“Totally your fault.” He planted his hands on my hips, and I jolted from the fire that shot through me.
With ease, he lifted me and set me outside the shower on the plush bath mat. He shut the glass door, and I stood there dripping wet and staring.
“I need some privacy,” he called, drawing GO AWAY with his finger in the steam. “And you left me no hot water.”
I let out a scream of frustration and got right back into the shower with him. I plowed around him, careful not to touch his wet skin as I muscled my way under the water to wash off what was left of the soap clinging to me.
He slipped around me until he monopolized the stream of now lukewarm water. It cascaded down his body. I was rapt as he slicked his hair back with both hands, this my own personal men’s body wash commercial. Except live and in the flesh was so much better.
How many times was he going to stop me in my tracks in one morning?
I fought the urge to open my dry mouth and gulp down gallons of water. I couldn’t move anyway. Holt reached around me and grabbed the soap, running it over every plane of his body as my eyes followed along. Forget my own honey body wash. I was so using his soap tomorrow.
“Thought you were gonna be late?” he drawled, rinsing the lucky suds off.
One found resistance as it slid down his pec to his nipple. How had I missed how tan he was? No farmer tan, either. Did park rangers chop wood without their shirts? In the fantasy that had popped into my mind they did. It was easy to picture his sweat-slicked body when he was soaking wet right in front of me.
That’s how he got those thick biceps.Hard labor. Or rock climbing. Definitely rock climbing. Not the gym.
I hummed my approval as my gaze drifted down cut abs to the defined V—my field of view blurred until blue eyes met mine.
Holt kept a firm grip of my chin. “I saidI thought you were going to be late.”
