Tool (A Step-Brother Romance #2)

"You spent a whole summer thinking about me blowing you?" I stroke him lightly, my hand running down his length, even as part of me thinks there's no way in hell I should be doing this. I'm worried that Gaige is going to be addictive, and that's terrifying.

"I spent a whole summer thinking about you on your knees with your lips wrapped around my cock," he says, his voice low and gravely. "I spent four years thinking about you sitting on my face. Four years thinking about you riding me."

"I – " I start. I realize I don't know what the hell to say. The fact that Gaige has spent any time at all fantasizing about me – about us – seems absurd. "I'm sure you say that to all the girls."

Gaige laughs. "Not quite, sweetheart."

"You know, some people use that word as a term of endearment," I say, my hand stroking him lazily. "You make it sound like an insult."

"You take it whichever way you want, darlin'," he says.

"I don't know whether to be annoyed or turned on."

"Now, I've definitely heard that before," he says, smiling as he reaches between my legs. "I'd say turned on is more accurate."

Arousal courses through my body when he touches me, but I stop his hand with mine. "I've never been turned on by someone who irritates me as much as you do, Gaige."

He grins. "I'll definitely take that as a compliment, sweetheart." He spins me around to face the shower wall and pins my hands above my head. "I only washed your front. Can't miss the opportunity to wash the other side."

"You're so thoughtful," I start, but I'm immediately distracted by his hands traveling down my hips and ass, and then between my legs.

"People tell me that a lot," he says.

"Yes," I murmur, as his fingers find their way inside me. I can't follow the conversation anymore; all I can think about is his fingers and what they're doing. I move to turn around, but he reaches up with his other hand and pushes my palms firmly against the shower wall again.

"Assume the position," he says, and I can't help but giggle.

"What position is that?"

"It's whatever position I put you in," he says, and the throbbing between my legs intensifies. Damn Gaige. He says the kind of things that my brain tells me I should think are totally misogynistic and repulsive things to say, yet my body seems to feel exactly the opposite.

"You think I'm just going to do whatever you tell me to do?" I ask. But I don't move my hands. I stand there, letting the hot water pour over me. When Gaige steps out of the shower, the blast of air-conditioned air hits me. For a second, I think he's just decided to leave, but he pops back inside, foil wrapper in hand.

He covers my palms with his, my hands still above my head, and leans in close to my ear. "I think you're going to do what I tell you to do," he says, sliding one hand down my arm, then along my back, and over my ass. "Because you like that someone has the balls to do it."

I laugh. "And you think you're the one with the balls?"

I hear the wrinkle of the foil wrapper, and I swear, I practically melt at the sound. What the hell is Gaige doing to me? Then his hand is on my hip, and he's pressing against my entrance, and with one swift movement, he's inside me.

"I know I am, sweetheart," he says, thrusting deeper inside me, until I feel his heavy balls pressed up against the bottom of my pussy. His palms cover my breasts, and he moves slowly inside me as the warm water from the shower pours over us. "Now, I want you to touch your clit for me. Rub it while I fuck you."

A moan escapes my lips as I comply. As if I'm not going to listen to an order like that. Pleasure courses through my body, bringing me higher and higher until I'm calling out Gaige's name again and again, hoping the shower drowns out my cries.

"I'm going to come in you, darlin'. Do you hear me?" Gaige's voice is strained.

I grunt my response, too caught up in my own pleasure to form words, but Gaige grabs a handful of hair and pulls my head back. "Tell me you want me to come inside you," he demands.

As if on cue, I'm on the edge as soon as he orders me to say it. "Please," I beg. "Please." It's all I can say. I had no idea someone talking to me so crudely could be so damn hot.

"Fuck," he groans, his hand still tight on my hair. The pain heightens the intensity of everything, and I'm putting more pressure on my clit, completely swept away in the moment. "Tell me, darlin'."

"Oh God," I gasp. "Fill me with your cum."

Gaige lets go of my hair, both hands on my waist as he thrusts inside me one last time, crying out, the sound almost feral. His orgasm triggers mine, and I feel myself crashing over the edge. His grip on me is tight, his fingers embedded so deeply in my flesh that it's the only way I don't fall over when I come, his arms wrapping around my chest, drawing me close to him.

It's a few minutes before either of us speak, my head too foggy from my orgasm. We just stand there, Gaige still inside me, his body pressed against mine.

"God, I really like how you are in bed," Gaige says.

"Thanks, I guess? You haven't actually been to bed with me yet."

"That's right," he says, slapping my ass. He slides out of me and steps out of the shower. "We'll have to remedy that."