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The Art of Us by Hilaria Alexander (24)

LENA

Go away. This is not the time, Amos,” I said, loud enough for him to hear me.

My words didn’t discourage him, however, because a second later, he opened the door.

Motherfucker.

I clenched my jaw as I saw the door slide open. The water in the ofuro covered my breasts, but still. With no soap in the water, unlike a bubble bath, you could see right through it.

Fuck it. I had nothing to be ashamed of. He was the asshole in this scenario.

His eyes widened, pausing appreciatively on me before he diverted his gaze elsewhere. How dare he come in here? He needed to get out.

“What the hell are you doing, Amos? I’m in here. Get out.”

The blood rose to my cheeks and I gave him a bitter look, lips pursed in annoyance, but that didn’t stop him.

Instead, he started undressing on the spot. He pulled his t-shirt from the back, exposing his abs in a move so seductive it almost looked rehearsed. If this was a plea to get me to pay attention to him, the fucker got his wish. He ditched his shirt and caught me staring at him.

Unfazed by my scowl, he seemed determined to keep going. It was the first time I had seen him naked. He was lean, but strong. His shoulders were broad, his arms defined. Despite his geek status, he cared about his appearance, and even while we’d been there, he had managed to keep up with his exercise routine. I had seen him go on runs early in the morning and do push-ups outside in the courtyard.

Once I even saw Rika-san gawking at him.

As his eyes met mine again, the corners of his lips curled up in a lazy smile. I was turned on and utterly confused. I didn’t understand what kind of game he was playing.

I wanted no part of it. In fact, I almost wanted to just stand up naked in front of him, just to get away from him.

However, I didn’t move, frozen in place by what was unfolding in front of me.

Unbuckling, to be precise.

Did he think I was going to let him in the ofuro with me?

He’s out of his mind.

Amos proceeded to unbuckle his belt and pull down his jeans. I kept staring, curious to see how far he was going to go with this striptease.

All the way, apparently.

He pulled down his jeans first and hung them up.

His boxer briefs were next, and I got an eyeful of his cock before managing to divert my gaze elsewhere. I stared at the blue tiles on the wall, watching him out of the corner of my eye.

He hung his clothes next to my robe.

“You know, you’re not supposed to come in here clothed. You’re doing this wrong.”

“You’re right. I’ll come in naked next time,” he replied without missing a beat.

“You should leave, Amos,” I said, hoping my voice would not betray me. My heart pounded against my ribcage, and a familiar ache spread in my lower belly.

I shot him an angry look, but outrage and enthrallment went hand in hand.

Seeing him naked almost made me forget why I had gone in there to begin with.

He doesn’t have a girlfriend anymore.

What I wanted, what I longed for could happen right then.

Amos sat down on one of the small stools and proceeded to lather himself up. I tried not to look at his body, but I failed. I stared at him as he kept his eyes closed and shampooed his hair.

His long legs stretched out in front of him as he covered his skin with foamy soap bubbles. I didn’t take my eyes off him as he lathered up his skin and his strong arms. There was a faint line across his biceps, where his t-shirt sleeves usually fell. He brushed his hair back as he rinsed it. With his hair wet and slicked back, he looked different than usual, his masculine profile more visible.

I sat in the warm water, attempting to appear impassive while watching him. Rivulets of water fell down his face, drops falling from his chin, and I once again fought the impulse to leave the room.

“I’m in here taking a bath, in case you haven’t noticed,” I said in a bitter tone.

“Oh, I’ve noticed,” he said, opening his eyes briefly, shooting me another appreciative glance. His voice was gravelly, but his tone was playful. He closed his eyes, lips curled in a wicked smile.

I suddenly pictured him like a big bad wolf ready to eat me.

Maybe because I wanted him to.

Still, I wasn’t ready to give in just yet. I wasn’t through sparring with him.

“Seriously? Come on, get the fuck out.”

His brown eyes gave me a teasing look. He smiled again, looking imperturbable. It was summer, and still bright outside. The light in the room made his eyes look a greenish brown.

It was such a strange, peculiar hue, but so fitting for him. The color of his eyes was like the color of some Japanese ceramic—not quite brown, not green.

Something in between.

My thoughts prompted the question in my head. What about the something between us? What was going to happen?

Amos had certainly entered the room with some kind of plan.

What was his angle?

“Don’t be stingy, Lena,” he teased, waking me from my daydream. “There’s room for both of us. The ofuro is meant to be shared, you know.”

He might have been right about there being enough room for both of us—I had seen plenty of movies and even anime where an entire family would bathe together—but Amos and I? We didn’t belong in the ofuro together.

“No fucking way,” I muttered through gritted teeth.

“Come on, Lena. There’s plenty of room. I’m not even looking at you.” He gave me a quick once-over. “I mean, I could. I do want to,” he teased.

I snorted. “You are, in fact, looking at me, shithead. You just did.”

“I didn’t see you look away when I undressed,” he responded.

“It’s your own fault for undressing in front of me. Why should I look away?”

“Fair enough.” He shrugged before turning the water of the little showerhead on and rinsing his body. Once again, I was distracted by the rivulets of water running along his naked skin.

He opened his eyes, his long eyelashes still dripping with water.

“I’m not saying I’m mad about it. I want you to look at me, but I know I’m overstepping, so I promise you I’m not going to touch you and I’m not going to look at you…unless you want me to.”

“Ha!” I scoffed, narrowing my eyes at him. I loathed his easy smile. The ache in my chest warned me I was in big, big trouble.

The wolf was going to eat me up, all right. He hadn’t even touched me, and he already had me in the palm of his hand.

He turned off the water and rubbed his hair with a small towel to remove the excess moisture.

My mouth went dry, and I licked my lips. When he turned my way, his eyes met mine then drifted to my lips.

“I promise I’m going to be good, and I will not look at you below your neck, though I don’t care if you want to look at me.” A sweet smile stretched across his face as if he were trying to make me feel comfortable, but he was actually achieving the complete opposite.

He knew I’d been ogling him, and he wanted me to look at him some more.

A voice in my mind told me to not fall for it, but his bright, amused eyes were all too inviting. It was obvious he wanted me to look.

He stood, and I didn’t avert my gaze. I followed every movement as he hung up the towel around his neck. I stared at his firm ass and then my eyes traveled up to his back and shoulders. When he turned around, my eyes met his, and I did not shy away. I kept my gaze on him, taking in his broad chest, his defined but barely there abs, all the way down to his cock.

No, I’m not going anywhere. I wasn’t the intruder. I was going to stay put. He wouldn’t win. He had no power over me.

I watched him step into the tub, his private parts at my eye level. I felt my cheeks redden, but I was determined to not look away.

He sat down on the opposite edge of the tub. It was circular, approximately eight feet in diameter, so there was a decent distance between us. The water was still warm, and he hummed as he rested his head against the edge of the tub.

I had been playing along, but I resented seeing him so relaxed. How could he be so nonchalant about being naked together? How dare he interrupt my alone time just to shove his big dick in my face?

I’d told myself I wasn’t leaving, but enough was enough. I didn’t have anything to prove.

I grabbed the edge of the tub and lifted myself up.

His eyes flew open and his gaze traveled up my body, his mouth ajar. When his eyes met mine, there was a certain expression I hadn’t noticed earlier. He’d burst into the room with defiance and cockiness, but now his eyes were filled with worry.

“Don’t go,” he said, his voice tender in a way I hadn’t heard from him before.

He reached for my hand and pulled me back.

A small smile stretched on his face, and a deep breath flared through his nostrils.

I didn’t know what to think.

I didn’t know what to do.

I didn’t know what I should want.

All I knew and all I could think was that I did want him—so, so badly. I was completely turned on by him, his body, the uncanny way he seemed to tease me and push all my buttons.

He held my hand, looking up to me with hazy eyes full of lust and need.

I saw him swallow as his gaze traveled down my body, pausing at every curve.

I felt desirable, beautiful.

Powerful.

“You said you weren’t going to look,” I reprimanded him.

His disarming smile was all it took for the butterflies to make a reappearance in my stomach.

“I’m a weak man, Lena. I want to keep my promise, but you’re too beautiful not to look at. Stay here with me. Please?”

Brows furrowed, I stared at his face, waiting for my innate badassness to come to the rescue and help me leave, but the bitch called in sick.

My resolve wavered, and I stopped pulling away from Amos’ hand.

He took that as a yes, and he immediately brought me down on him.

Water splashed everywhere, and in a matter of seconds, I found myself straddling him, one of his hands on my ass, pressing me against his erection.

Son of a bitch.

We were skin to skin, my breasts squeezed against his chest, his other hand cradling my head, our lips barely brushing.

No, no, my mind said.

It was too close, too soon, too fast.

It was a mistake, but I wanted it too much to run away from it, from him. I wanted to feel his hands, his breath on my skin. My insides coiled at the thought of giving in and surrendering to him completely.

I liked to think I had enough self-respect to not let him manipulate the situation in his favor.

He leaned in for a kiss, and I pulled back.

He opened his eyes and found me staring at him. Brows pulled together, he searched my eyes for approval, but I shook my head.

“Was this your plan all along?” I asked.

“What? What plan?”

“This, Amos,” I said, gesturing at the evidence. “Was this your plan all along? To get me to straddle you in a tub—which, by the way, is not made for kinky stuff.”

He laughed, and I hated how much I reveled in the sound of it.

“You’re cute when you say ‘kinky.’” He smiled but I glared at him.

“And you’re an asshole.”

“You’re probably right,” he replied, as if my words humored him.

He leaned in, attempting another kiss—and this time I let him.

Soft, warm, inviting. They felt just as good as I remembered them. He had barely touched me, and my head was already spinning, the anticipation killing me.

He parted my lips with his tongue, and I granted him access. I couldn’t say no to him, as much as I wanted to preserve myself.

I was as weak as he’d confessed to be, but I wasn’t going to let him get away with this, not with all of it, at least.

His tongue danced around mine, the taste, the feel of him just as good as I remembered. I had held on to the memory of his kiss for so long, and I felt my chest explode with emotions I wasn’t equipped to handle.

Despite the warm water, my skin was covered in goose bumps, his kiss, his touch sending shivers down my spine as the arousal in my lower belly intensified, propelled by the friction of his erection.

My will was crumbling, my body coming undone, but my mind kept shouting questions that needed to be addressed.

I brought one of my hands underwater and circled his cock with my fingers, giving it a squeeze. My touch was gentle at first. Amos moaned in my mouth, devouring it even more forcefully. One of his hands reached down between my lips, but I moved it away.

I was the one in control, and I needed answers.

I deliberately started stroking him a bit harder than I should have and he broke the kiss, letting out a small hiss, confusion clouding his face.

“Ouch! Lena, be gentle.”

“You owe me an explanation, Amos.”

“About what?” he asked. “What is there to talk about?”

Typical men. I cocked one eyebrow at him, and he sighed.

“Does it have to be now?” he asked, frustrated.

“Yes, it has to be now,” I said, giving his cock another couple of strong strokes that brought him to the edge of pleasure and pain.

“Oh fuck!” he mouthed, biting his bottom lip. He grabbed one of my breasts and squeezed my nipple, hard.

“Ouch! You fucker!” I slapped him on the arm, water splashing all around us.

“You started it!” he rebuked.

“I need you to tell me what happened.” My voice was firm, but I was losing my patience.

“We broke up,” he said with a shrug.

“No shit, Sherlock. Why?”

“Don’t you know why?” he asked with an air of defiance.

“No, I don’t. I’m not in the habit of meddling in other people’s business.”

“True. Are you done assaulting my cock, now?” he asked defensively.

“Not quite,” I said, keeping a grip on it but giving it a gentle stroke this time.

His eyes softened, and he exhaled a deep breath. He reached between my lips again, and I swatted his hand away. We glared at each other for a few seconds. He licked his lips, and I had to fight the impulse to kiss him.

“Will you let me touch you if I answer your questions?”

“Yes,” I replied in my best seductive tone, teasing him by playing with one of my nipples. I saw him swallow, and I loved that I had that kind of power over him.

“Ask away,” he said, resigned, stretching his arms along the rim of the tub.

“Why did you two break up?”

“We weren’t in love anymore. We hadn’t been for a while,” he replied, sounding sincere.

“Was it mutual?”

“No. I broke up with her. I should have done it sooner.”

“You know the last thing I should let you do is get in my pants when you just broke up with your girlfriend, right?”

“You’re not wearing any pants,” he said with an adorable smirk.

“Careful, mister. I wouldn’t push it if I were you. My hand is still around your cock.”

He sighed, but then his lips curved into a smile.

“You drive a hard bargain, Ms. Andrews,” he teased. “But you’re wrong about something.”

I made a face. “What am I wrong about? Using your cock to get information? I certainly am, but nothing is going to happen between us until you answer all my questions.”

“No, you’re wrong about what you said. I didn’t just break up with Olivia. It happened a while ago.”

I gasped, surprised by his words. “What do you mean a while ago? When did you break up?”

He looked away, his eyes staring at the small window of the bathroom.

“Right after Marty and Violet’s wedding. I knew we had gone too far to patch things up and move forward. Besides, my heart hadn’t been in it for…a long time.” His eyes met mine, hazy and warm, my resolve wavering at his new confession.

“Wait…you broke up with her eight months ago? And you’re only telling me now? Why?”

He hesitated. “I didn’t tell you because you would have pushed me away again. You wouldn’t have believed me.”

“Believed…what? That you have the hots for me? I suspected,” I told him with a nonchalant shrug.

He laughed. “I’m afraid I’m past the point of having the hots for you,” he replied in a slightly embarrassed tone, wiggling his eyebrows. He looked elsewhere as he ran a hand through his wet hair.

My eyes fell on his lips and I kissed him tenderly. When I pulled back, his eyes were shining with the kind of emotion I wasn’t sure I could handle.

“Don’t go soft on me, St. Clair,” I threatened playfully, and something shifted in him.

“Don’t worry, I won’t,” he said in a gravelly voice as he wrapped his arms tighter around my waist and started placing slow, hot kisses on my neck. I moaned against his ear, and the ache between my legs sharpened as he rubbed one of my nipples between his thumb and forefinger, causing my skin to break into goose bumps again. The water was getting colder. It was time to get out of there, and possibly take the party elsewhere.

“So, to recap…you are currently single?” I asked in a low, breathy voice. I was hoping I could lighten the mood and divert the conversation from the serious turn it had taken.

I didn’t do feelings. I had a crush on Amos, but I didn’t know what I felt for him.

If I understood his words correctly, he was already past the point of a simple crush. I didn’t know if I felt as strongly as he did.

Up until then, my obsession for him had been mostly driven by my attraction. I couldn’t think about feelings yet.

I had to focus on the positive, which at the present included the possibility of fucking him without feeling guilty.

He had broken up with Olivia months and months ago, and he hadn’t made a move because he knew I would have tried to push him away, like I had almost three years before.

“We need to get out of here,” I mumbled against his lips, stealing another kiss.

“Hmmm. If I could have it my way, I’d grab your ass and take you to my room this instant, soaking wet and all.”

“That sounds very promising.”

“But we’d have an audience,” he teased, and I laughed.

He drank in my laughter, his eyes brighter with amusement; the ache in my heart grew bigger.

You don’t do feelings, a voice reminded me.

“That could be fun.”

He cocked one eyebrow at me, his smile growing bigger.

“But I don’t think I want to compromise the rest of our stay because of some lust-driven fantasy,” I added. Just then, my stomach grumbled, and he stifled a laugh.

“As much as I can’t wait to take you to bed, I think we should get dinner first.”

“Let’s go. I’m starving.”