It was useless. The ache between her legs wouldn’t be soothed by damn Kegels. She should leave and down a quart of ice water. Douse it over her flaming skin.
But she didn’t. She couldn’t. Instead she pressed the heel of her hand against the part of her that begged for a salve. Yes. Better. Just a few rubs outside the boxers she had borrowed to ease the ache. Brody’s boxers, the thought of which merely hiked her desire. A couple of seconds of naughty indulgence, but damn…they were damp. And no touch had ever felt so good.
No touch but his.
Another moan from the shower went straight to her blooming clit. At this rate, a single press of her fingers to her bare, damp skin would do it. Get it done, then back to her day and her shitty life. As long as she heard the shower and those moans from within, she’d know he was otherwise occupied. Jerking off with her as the inspiration.
She slipped two fingers inside the boxers and delved between her swollen folds.
Ah, so good. She bit down on her lip to keep her moan from finding voice. The slick heat between her thighs increased with every slippery stroke of her fingers. Just a few more seconds, just a few more. The build so intense, almost there, almost—
Brody’s moans increased in volume, and the strangest notion overcame her. She wanted to hit it when he did. The idea took hold, and she slowed her stroke, bit back on her pleasure as she listened to his ratcheting up. For someone who always appeared so contained, he was shockingly vocal and uninhibited.
His moans built, the coil in her belly with it, and she knew he was about to go over. She clamped down on her lip as her orgasm gripped her, fueled by a lusty shout on the other side of the wall.
They came together, though only one of them realized how freakin’ fine that was.
Slumped against the wall, wrung out from her pleasure, she tried to ignore the pang of guilt in her chest at having used his private moment like that. But she had no time for regrets. She needed to pull herself together because any minute now, he would be out of the shower.
“Emma.”
Or, how about this very minute?
She jumped and removed her hand from her boxers as if she hadn’t actually had her hand between her legs. “Fake it ’til you make it” seemed apt right about now.
Brody stood before her, still wet, a towel loosely draped around his hips. Her mouth went bone-dry, though she’d be hard-pressed to credit the precise reason. Embarrassment, mounting panic, or the most impressive chest she’d ever had the fortune to see up close. A light thatch veed over his pecs, shading dark copper nipples. The hair continued down his stomach, arrowing through his taut abs like an unstoppable train on the way to his… Rawr. Stopping at the border of his towel, slung disruptively low, she swiftly raised her eyes.
She had worked at Score Property for three months, had mind-blowing sex with this man in a strip club, but this was the first time she had seen him shirtless. And now, she was shy.
“Hi,” she managed. Hi?
“Hello.”
“I—I was just looking for Kevin and he came in here and I thought I heard something.” It emerged in a run-on gush.
“Something?”
He rubbed a second towel through his dark hair and eyed her like he’d caught her in the act. Hand in the cookie jar-slash-boxer briefs, so to speak. Well, he needn’t be so judgy. After all, he’d been the one flogging the log in that shower.
Do not go there. Do. Not. Go.
Ah, hell. As had been demonstrated several times already this week, her brain was not the boss of her.
She went.
Her gaze dipped to the towel, willing it to fall, calling on her X-ray vision to discern the exact nature of that tented bulge behind that damp, fluffy hotel-quality cotton.
A well-used cock.
Not well-used enough, her dirty mind chimed in. How could he still be primed after that steamy shower release? Her eyes shot up to find his locked on hers like silver magnets.
“You thought you heard something?” he repeated in complete seriousness as if the something they were talking about was not his husky moaning of her name while he jacked off.
“Yes. From the bathroom.” She waved helpfully in that direction. “I thought you might have been…in pain.”
Those silver-gray orbs of light widened, followed by a slow mouth curl brightening his forbidding face. Just shy of a smile, it made her heart flutter madly. His gaze raked her body deliberately. With intent. In that moment, it was clear he knew that she knew exactly what had been going on in that shower.
Fantastic. Everyone was in the know.
“Well, it was a little painful for a while. But I soldiered through. How about you?”
“How about me what?”
“I might not be wearing my glasses, but I don’t need them to recognize a woman with her hand down her panties. Or boxers, as is the case here.”
“I—I…” Oh, shit. “You got me.”
That surprised him. He had expected denials, and while she was embarrassed as all get-out, she wasn’t a prude.