Warm droplets of water splashed across her face, her back pressed to the shower tile. Intimacy in the shower had always been a little difficult before—previous partners were a struggle to maneuver around—but there was no sight April enjoyed more than Van on his knees, his face buried between her thighs as he lapped at her slick folds, her swollen clit. After their session in front of the fireplace, April wouldn’t have thought she would have been rearing to go again so soon. Yet, there she was, moaning wantonly as Van pleasured her, her head thrown back in ecstasy. The shower stream was a constant, the water warming her, pounding her hardened nipples, as the room steamed around them.
With her fingertips dug into Van’s muscular shoulders, April whimpered his name when she came, her pussy clenching around his two fingers as he fucked her. The world went hazy for a moment, and she appreciated just how cool the tile was behind her. It grounded her and kept her focused in the here and now—rather than drifting off and rising with the steam.
Van stood quickly, water droplets clinging to his eyelashes. She wanted to wipe them away, but she could barely move, let alone coordinate the arduous task of not accidentally poking him in the eye. Towering over her, Van brushed his thumb over his lips, her taste no doubt still on his tongue, and they both held one another’s gaze as they caught their breath. Then, without a word, he pounced and hoisted her up, sliding his cock in soundly, a single thrust uniting them.
April whimpered, her arms wrapped around him, and kissed him, as he took her slowly, lazily thrusting his hips against hers over and over again until she felt the familiar tingle of yet another climax. How he managed to work her over so well, like they’d been dating for years, was beyond her, but she didn’t want an explanation: he probably just had a lot of experience.
He swallowed the cry that came when she did again, their lips joined and parted, expressing their affections through a simple kiss. The pleasure left her fingertips numb and body tingling, and she was grateful for the way he held her up, taking her a little rougher now. His thrusts grew sharper and harder until he spilled himself into her. April stroked his cheek, smiling, at the way his skin flushed, pulled tight over his features as his face screwed in pleasure.
When they were through—and April was sure her knees wouldn’t buckle the second he put her down—Van went for the soap and gave her a good scrub, getting all her nooks and crannies in comfortable silence. She returned the favor, of course, happy to rub the squishy loofah across his impressive abs and pert ass. There was no point in hiding just how much she appreciated his body after all.
The bathroom was a veritable sauna once they turned the water off, the air thick with heat and the mirrors covered in fog. She stepped out and walked happily into the fluffy towel Van had waiting for her, tucking it snuggly around her body as her hair dripped water on the floor.
“You coming?” she asked, lingering in the doorway between the en-suite and the master bedroom. Van swiped his hand across the mirror, clearing some of the fog away, and then grinned at her.
“I already did. Twice, actually. Props to you, O’Hara.”
She rolled her eyes and left him, and moments later his electric razor started up, followed by the sound of him trimming his facial scruff. Good. It was getting a little rough on her skin these days, and she almost preferred to see his handsome face without a dark smattering of hair obscuring it. But then again, without the scruff, he looked more like his dad, and there was one of her many dilemmas: No burning skin from coarse hair rubbing against her versus Van looking like his dad in poor lighting.
Decisions.
Sighing, April quickly toweled off before throwing on one of Van’s old oversized t-shirts, then she went to work on her hair. She knew for a fact that it was bad practice to go to bed with it sopping wet, but after the day she’d had—including the multiple orgasms over the last two hours—there was just no way she’d be able to stand in the bathroom and hold a hair dryer.
It just wasn’t happening. Instead, she sat on the edge of the bed, her eyes heavy with sleep, and worked her thin damp locks over with the towel. While she’d gained an extra inch of strawberry blonde since she’d returned to Cascade Falls, it was still thin as paper, which certainly helped when she was too lazy to dry it. Unfortunately, that was probably the only good thing about thin hair.
As she squeezed her hair through the towel, her arms getting heavier and heavier, April suddenly found herself looking at the little calendar on Van’s bedside table. There were a few things scribbled on dates for this month, including today’s dinner he’d taken her to at a cozy place on Main Street. Nibbling her lower lip, April flipped to August. It was only a two weeks away, and at the bottom of the page was a huge red circle around the date of James Palmer’s wedding to her mom.
Staring at it, a queasy feeling took hold of her, and April quickly set it back in its place. Unfortunately, even with the July page back where it should be, she couldn’t get that obnoxious red circle out of her mind. It was like the finale of the mental countdown she’d been keeping without realizing it. Two weeks and a month left before she and Van were legally step-siblings.
It shouldn’t have bothered her. They’d discussed it here and there, both agreeing that just because their parents got married didn’t suddenly mean they’d shared baths together as kids and acquired some of the other person’s genetic material. It was all a formality, really, this new relationship that loomed on the horizon.
And yet April couldn’t shake the sensation of her stomach knotting. They’d be in the wedding party together. Her mom would have Van’s last name. They’d pose for family photos: two couples, all related by marriage. She swallowed thickly, her throat suddenly dry. No matter how many times they had talked about it, fleetingly, April just couldn’t get the feeling out of her head that this was all somehow taboo. She didn’t give a shit about rumors. Let people talk—what did she care?
But her gut feeling? That was a little harder to ignore. She could easily see herself falling in love with Van if their relationship stayed on its current path, but would she feel differently when he was her stepbrother? Would she be required to love him differently? Would there be expectations? New rules?
Would she feel differently about him on principle? The thought made her heart hurt.
Finally, April sauntered back to the bathroom and hung her towel to dry, then she kissed Van’s bare back as she passed. Grinning, he swatted at her butt when she walked away from him, and April shot him a scandalized look over her shoulder. They both parted in laughter, belying the unnerving tightness she felt growing in the pit of her stomach. Once she was alone, back in the bedroom she’d been making some serious use of once they’d agreed to give the whole dating thing a shot, her smile fell. Despite the amazing evening they’d spent together, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off—about them, their relationship, or perhaps something else entirely.
And maybe that was why she pretended to be asleep when Van climbed into bed beside her. The king-sized bed had more than enough room for the two to sleep separate, but he always cuddled up behind her, keeping her safe through the night.
Things would be different in the morning. The feeling would pass. She’d forget all about it, and Van would go back to being her gorgeous boyfriend, not her stepbrother. There was still time to work out the feelings she had about the change in title, and there was no point in getting upset about it now.
So, still pretending to snooze, she rolled over and nestled against him, his broad chest warming her at the skin-to-skin contact. Sleep.
Everything was always better in the morning.
It had to be.