“Yeah, I fall. One thing I don’t do is fall. Not anymore, not ever.”
“So you hit your knees when you quit fighting?”
I’m not ready to share Rosie with Eve, so I lie. “Yeah. I picked myself back up and vowed I’d never let that shit happen again.”
“Makes sense.”
“Then I meet you, and I’m all over the place, wobbling on my feet.” The words pour from my lips before I’m able to register what I’m feeling. The whole thing is . . . “Crazy.”
Her eyes widen and her lips part.
“Not sure that’s good crazy or bad crazy, but it’s fucked up.”
“The kind of fucked up you can live with?”
I run my hand up her back and tangle my fist into the long tendrils of her hair. “Come here.”
She leans in, and I pull her bottom lip between my teeth before sliding my tongue into her soft hot mouth. So fucking good.
Between her hips rolling and the firm tips of her breasts brushing against my chest, my rational thinking dissipates fast. I roll us so that her back is to the bed and she has her legs wrapped around my waist.
“I, um . . . smell like chlorine and sunblock. I need to take a shower.”
Fuck. That sounds perfect.
“I’m all over it, doll.” I lift her off the bed and carry her with her legs wrapped tight to the bathroom. Setting her down, I pull my shirt over my head and step to her to help her do the same.
She’s still in her black pants and white oxford that she wore to work this morning. Her eyes devour my chest, drifting from my side to my arms, studying my tattoos while she unbuttons her blouse to expose a bright white lace bra. I bite my lip to dull the urge to run my tongue in the valley of those perfect breasts and lose myself in the sweet and creamy smell of her skin while pushing inside her body.
I lean over and crank the shower on. When I turn back to her, she has her shirt off and bra loose. I watch in awe as she slides the straps down her arms, revealing herself to me.
“Damn.” I suck in a breath as she hooks her thumbs into her pants and slides them, along with her panties to the floor.
I kick my pants off and pull her into my arms so fast a giggle escapes her lips.
“Laugh while you can. What we’re about to do will be anything but funny.”
Her eyes flare, and a tiny grin tugs at her lip. “Promise?”
I smack her ass, expecting her to giggle, but fuck me . . . she moans. I rub the tender spot on her backside and she presses in deeper, asking with her body. I swat her again, this time with more force.
“Yes.” She drops her forehead to my chest.
I grind down against my urge bend her over the countertop and fuck her hard. “Shower.”
She slides past me, and if I didn’t know better, I’d swear she pressed in to rub those beautiful tits along my ribs as she went. Tempting, teasing, this girl pushes every single hot button I have while creating some of her own.
I follow her into the shower where she steps beneath the streaming water. She tips her head back, and the water cascades down her face and along the long column of her neck. Beautiful.
Lathering up a bar of soap, I tug her free from the spray. “I’ll wash you.”
She doesn’t speak, but simply nods and waits. I turn her to face the stone wall and push her long hair to the front to expose her shoulders. Starting there, I rub bubbles into her skin, pressing in circles with my thumb to relieve the tension I feel she’s carrying there.
Her head lulls to the side. “Mmm, that’s nice.”
“Quiet.” It’s instinctual. I can’t even explain to myself why telling her what to do turns me on, but her trusting me, turning herself over to me in compliance, is hot. And the way her body sways on her feet, I’m willing to bet I’m not the only one enjoying this game.
I move from her shoulders down her back to her hips, every place my hands touch eliciting a small moan of approval. I step in close, pressing my front to her back while my hands wrap around to cup her breasts. She braces herself, both palms pressed flat against the wall. I slide my hand up to her neck, her chin, and cup her jaw, twisting just her face to meet mine. I push my tongue deep into her mouth, and she welcomes it with an eager thrust of her own.
My other hand slides down her belly to between her legs. “Open.”
She follows my instructions and widens her legs so I can get between them.
“Tilt your hips.”
She does.
“Little more.”
Pushing against the wall, she arches her back, tilts her hips and offers what I’ve been asking for.
“Good girl.”
I play, prime, and then in one long thrust, I’m in. One hand on her hip, the other wrapped around and filled with her breast, I move.
She meets me stroke for stroke, putting pressure on the wall to leverage herself against me. “More.”