You’re a shameless hussy, Mia Waters.
Yup. There’s no doubt about it, especially the shameless part, because I can’t stop smirking while I’m standing under the spray from my shower. Warm water pours over my head and into my face, and it’s like invisible strings are tugging at the corners of my mouth and butterflies are flapping about under my ribs.
I really wasn’t trying to trick or provoke him, and despite how he struggled with my bra hooks, it seemed like he would help me undress in a matter-of-fact, I-do-this-every-day kind of way. But then he made that shitty and sarcastic remark, and I was done playing nice. Done playing fair.
God, the look on his face. When I let my bra drop, his expression went from cold and angry to hot and hungry quicker than you could snap your fingers. And this may be the most telling indication of how distracted he was: he didn’t remind me to keep my injured hand dry. Jay never misses an opportunity to nag.
Seeing him react that way was a serious turn-on, and it made me bold and careless. I’ll probably end up paying for that somehow, but still. Zero regrets.
Keeping my bandaged hand out and away from the water, I use the other to smooth my hair down, soaking it so that I can wash it. What is Jay doing right now? Is he still in the bathroom? Still in the apartment? He wouldn’t just leave…right?
Showering one-handed is awkward. I have to squeeze shampoo directly onto the top of my head instead of into my palm, and then massaging it into my hair is a slow and annoying process. After rinsing it out, I repeat the whole thing with the conditioner.
I’m done with that and am holding my bottle of body wash and trying to figure out what to do with it when I hear the metallic rattling of the shower curtain rings.
I freeze, my heart dropping into my stomach.
Oh, my God. Jay? Is he doing what I think he’s doing?
Holding my breath and my body still, I feel a waft of cool air on my back, and then I can hear the thumps as he steps into the tub, can sense his presence behind me. Next comes the sound of him closing the curtain again.
My lungs start burning, and my chest deflates as I let the air rush out. I want to look behind me—and I don’t want to. Is he naked? Of course he is. I mean, he has to be…right?
Shit. I really didn’t expect him to join me, and now I don’t know what to do. I’m standing there with hot water pouring over me, unable to move.
“What are you doing?” The question just kind of tumbles out of me, high-pitched and breathless.
The bare skin of his arm brushes mine as he reaches around me and plucks the bottle out of my grasp. “Helping you wash up. Making sure you keep your hand dry.”
Yes, yes, yes.
God, yes.
His voice is throaty, and a shiver runs down my spine at the sound of the body wash cap popping open. There’s the slight tap of him setting the bottle down on the edge of the tub, and I tense up, bracing myself while every last inch of me is buzzing and humming with anticipation.
A jolt goes through me at the feel of his hands settling on my shoulders, and a shock shoots between my legs as he slides a slippery trail down one arm and up the other, the one that I’m keeping away from the spray of water.
Jay.
I’m naked in the shower with Jay, and he’s touching me. Jay is touching me. Is this actually happening? How is this not too good to be true?
My eyes drift shut as he reverses his path, back up to my shoulder, and then his palms are spreading the body wash down my back, down and down toward my ass. I suck in air and arch my spine, ready for the soapy caress, so fucking ready for it I could weep.
But it doesn’t come. I let out a disappointed breath between my teeth when his touch reaches my waist and he spreads it out to my sides and upward, up until he stops under my arms.
Forward, Jay. Do it. My hammering heartbeat is in my ears. I want him to cup my breasts, want to feel his hands covering them, squeezing them. And again I’m frustrated as his hands skim lower and around to the front of my body instead, painting my abdomen with lather.
He bends down so that his bare chest is pressing against my shoulders and upper back. Close to my ear, his voice sounds gruff as he says, “This is a goddamned mistake, Mia. You know that, right?”
No, I don’t know that. And I don’t understand why he thinks it is. “Then why are you doing it?”
“Because you’re making it fucking impossible not to.” His words come out as a low snarl, and then he’s biting me, his teeth digging gently into my neck right where it meets my shoulder, while he reaches up and grabs my breasts.
A moan swelling up from deep in my chest, I let my head fall back, tilting it sideways to give him better access. He tightens his grip on me, pulling me all the way back toward him and his hard and naked body.
And now I know for a fact that he’s not wearing any clothes, because his dick is an unyielding pressure on my ass. The feel of him there, so hot and thick and rigid, sends a stab of arousal straight to my pussy. I’m throbbing and pulsing, my need for him raw, urgent, and fierce.
“Touch me,” I gasp out, lifting my good hand up behind me, reaching for him and finding his face, his bristly jaw.
He tightens his hold on my tits, kneading and pinching, flicking his thumbs over my taut and sensitive nipples. “Say please,” he commands in a harsh tone.
I exhale with a hiss. No. Screw that.
Gritting my teeth, I thrust my ass back and rub myself against the length of him—and am rewarded with his breathless, guttural grunt. With his panting breaths on my neck, I keep grinding against his rock-hard and straining cock.
Say please, my ass. I drop my hand from his face and down to inch it in behind myself and between us, seeking him, groping for him. But just as my fingers connect with his smooth flesh, he seizes my hand in his strong grip, yanking it away.
Holding on to me like that, he twists me around so that I’m facing him. I start to steady myself by shifting my injured hand toward his shoulder, but he catches it and thrusts it sideways, away from the spray of water, which is now running in rivulets down my back.
And I can finally see his face. With a gulp, I jerk my head back to look up and take in his dark and hooded eyes, the firm set to his jaw, the bulging veins in his neck. He wants me. It’s driving him nuts, I can tell. He said it’s a mistake. He’s pissed about it. But he can’t help himself. Because he wants me too much.
I don’t want him angry, though. I want him to kiss me and touch me and fuck me and be happy about it. So I jerk on my good hand until he lets it go, and then I place it on his cheek. I’m stroking his face where his skin is rough under my palm, tracing my thumb along the line of his jaw. Keeping my gaze locked with his, I move my hand around to the back of his head, burying it in his hair, which is still mostly dry.
Tugging his head down, I whisper, “Kiss me, Jay.”
Stop fighting this.
Something shifts in his eyes. His shoulders sag, and he exhales harshly. “Mia…”
I smile at him, but I don’t even know if he notices, because he’s lifting me up on the tips of my toes, slanting his head, and dipping down, and then his lips are firm on mine, firm and hot.
There’s nothing hesitant or reluctant about him now. He’s kissing me like he’s claiming me, like he’s been starving and I’m a feast. I open my mouth—another invitation he accepts, his tongue darting inside. Tasting me. Teasing me. Invading me.
I let out a half moan, half sob, and his arm snakes around me so he can grab my ass and push me flush up against him. I’m floating on air, dancing on clouds, and dissolving into nothing. With steam swirling around our heads, I’m standing in my shower and kissing Jay—kissing Jay…my Jay…my best friend, Jay—and I can feel him everywhere, his wet skin against mine.
Drawing my lower lip into his mouth and biting it gently, he breaks off the kiss. I close my eyes, bending my neck back as he moves down to suck and nibble on the skin just above my collarbone. Kissing a trail from there and up to my ear, he captures my earlobe between his teeth. I let out a small whimper. Do I actually like that? I didn’t know I liked that. Maybe his mouth is magical.
Then he’s letting go of my ass and sliding his hand around to slip it between my thighs, sliding it between the folds until his thumb is on my clit. A whimper escapes me, my hips thrusting into his touch.
His mouth still on my ear, he whispers, “Spread your legs.”
Holy shit. I’m gasping for breath, his words so arousing that I feel like my insides are trying to crawl out of my skin.
Hanging on to him with a firm grip on the back of his neck, I comply, opening my legs, opening myself and inviting him in. His thumb still stroking the bundle of nerves above my opening, he pushes a finger inside my swollen pussy. A mewling sound rises in my throat.
“Jesus, Mia,” he growls. “You’re so wet.”
“You did that.” I’m pressing myself against his hand, meeting his strokes. “That’s all you.”
I feel his whoosh of breath on my ear, and his finger is joined by another, stretching me and sending sparks of pleasure into my core. He shifts us around so that my back is against the cold and hard wall, and I dig my fingers into the soft and mostly dry hair at the nape of his neck as he captures my lips again, kissing me deeply and fervently while he’s finger-fucking me.
“I want you inside me,” I pant out against his mouth, running my hand down his wide shoulder, his sculpted chest with its light dusting of hair, and his subtle six-pack. Down, down to the defined V of muscles low on his hips, tracing the line of hair forming a path from his belly button toward his groin.
Again he stops me before I manage to grasp him, shoving my arm aside and pinning it back against the wall. “I’m going to taste you first.”
My heartbeat drops between my legs, where it drums and throbs while he’s stroking inside me. Weakly, I can only think to say, “Okay.”
His head dips as he brushes a trail with his tongue and teeth down to my breasts. “Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted to taste you?” he asks before his lips close on my nipple, drawing it into his warm and wet mouth.
Oh, my God. I squeeze my eyes shut and moan, “No. Tell me.”
He moves over to my other nipple, sucks it in, grazing it with his teeth as he keeps massaging and probing me. Looking up at me, his pale gaze boring into me, he answers, “Since the day I met you.”
I’m stunned and struggling to breathe as his hot breath trails down my stomach, and my ab muscles tighten, tensing up. Then he pulls his fingers out of me and grabs my thigh, and when he lifts my leg and hooks it over his shoulder, I don’t just let him. I help him, make it easy, leaning back and pressing my heel into his back.
“Oh, my God,” I gulp out as his mouth closes around my sex. His tongue is swirling and teasing, and my words are echoing in my mind. Oh, God, oh, God, oh, God. It’s Jay. Jay is eating my pussy, and he’s so damn good at it. Better than he’s ever been in my daydreams. He’s mouth-fucking me like he means it, like he loves it and isn’t just doing it for my sake.
I’m shutting my eyes, letting the sensations ripple through me. My orgasm ambushes me—flares up like a short fuse that bursts suddenly and with no warning. I cry out, and Jay eases up the pressure while I’m shuddering and moaning, coming hard and fast with his lips and tongue still hot on me.
My breathing shallow and nerve endings purring, I’m still recovering as he straightens again. He threads his hand into the tangle of wet hair just above the back of my neck, curling his fingers until the strands tighten just shy of hurting me. With a slight tug, he angles my head back and bends to capture my lips. It’s a kiss with no foreplay, his tongue thrusting in without asking permission, stroking and playing on mine. His mouth smells and tastes musky, almost spicy.
He backs up as abruptly as he dove in, inching back and saying in an undertone, “That’s what you taste like.”
I exhale harshly. “You’re killing me.”
“We’ve barely even started.” He turns off the faucet, yanks aside the shower curtain, and pulls my towel off the towel bar. His movements jerky, he throws the thick terry cloth up and behind me. Steam from my shower is lingering, filling the small bathroom with hot, humid air as he wraps the towel around me.
He steps out of the shower and tugs me along to the outer edge of the tub with a firm grip on the ends of the towel where they meet at my chest. “Hang on,” he says as he takes hold of me under my arms and lifts me up, and then I’m wrapping my legs around his hips and circling his neck with both arms as he carries me to my bedroom.
Our eyes are locked as he lowers me carefully to the bed and climbs up on top of me in the same motion, because I refuse to let go of him. I jump at the sensory overload as his thumb finds the sweet spot between my thighs again, and then I’m pulling his head down because I want to feel his lips on mine, can’t get enough of it.
While we’re kissing breathlessly, hungrily, I reach between us and grab him, my hand bumping against his where he’s touching me. He lets out a strangled grunt, and I tighten my grip. His erection is straining against my palm, the tip of it sticky with precum.
This is how much he wants me. I’m getting light-headed, feeling empty and aching because he’s not inside me yet.
When I let go of him almost right away, I sense his disappointment in the way he kind of sags against me. Flinging my arm around the back of his neck, I pull myself up and dig my teeth gently into his neck, feeling his pulse on my lips.
“I need you to fuck me now,” I whisper before biting his earlobe, sucking it into my mouth.
He pushes himself up onto his hands so he can look at me. His lips curving in a tiny smile, he arches his eyebrows at me, though he says nothing, and I’m staring at him in confusion. What?
Then it hits me.
Say please.
Seriously? Breathing through my nose, I widen my eyes at him. In response, he just smirks some more, and I kind of want to hit him.
Fine. Glaring, I grind out a grudging, “Please.”
His teasing smile fades, and with hooded eyes, he seizes my hips, lifting them up off the bed, his cock nudging my opening. And then he’s guiding himself inside me, and I suck in a breath and hold it. Hold it as he stretches me and pushes deeper, as deep as he can go, filling me completely. The only sounds are the whispers of our shallow breathing. With our still-damp bodies on the bed, the towel an abrasive surface under my back, Jay starts to move inside me.
I want to touch him everywhere. So I start by running my hands down his back. Then I grab his ass and feel his muscles flexing with each thrust. Pull him closer until there’s no space between us. He’s rocking into me, and I’m tilting my hips to the same rhythm, meeting him, accommodating him.
My blood is pumping hard. I’m too worked up, oversensitive from my first climax, and high on the awareness that this is Jay.
It’s Jay, inside of me.
Jay, screwing me.
It feels so good.
“Fuck,” he groans. “Mia...”
With my arms and legs, I pull him down, steer his head so his mouth collides with mine. This time it’s me with a probing tongue, me biting his lips while he’s fucking me hard.
And then I’m coming again, and it’s like I’m soaring and falling apart, waves and waves of bliss washing over me. Jay’s hoarse grunt is in my ear. He goes still, spilling inside me, and I cry out as the liquid heat sends aftershocks rippling through me.
I don’t let him go, and he doesn’t move away. Our chests rise and fall in unison. I’m smelling sweat and sex and the fabric softener on my sheets. Jay is still between my legs, and all should be right with the world right now, but somehow it’s not.
Because it’s too right. Too good. And I wasn’t supposed to care that all of this comes with an expiration date, that all too soon he’ll be leaving for a new life without me.
But I do.