“So . . . you game?”
She realized he was still watching her in a rather predatory fashion.
She blinked a few times to clear her head of all those dirty thoughts her mind had conjured up. “What? Game for what?”
“Me proving my utter heterosexuality to you.”
“Uh, no. Definitely not.”
He laughed. “I thought not. You’ll just have to take my word for it, then.”
She didn’t need to take his word for it. He’d already proved it once when he’d kissed her. The memory of just how much of a man he was had been seared into every part of her body.
He got up and cleared the table. At a loss for a comeback, she helped him, nudging him out of the way so she could do the dishes.
“You cooked. I’ll clean up.”
“Sounds like a deal. I need a shower, anyway.”
When he left the room, she exhaled. Maybe his disappearance would allow her pulse rate to return to normal. Though she didn’t know what to do about her tingling nipples and throbbing *. That problem would likely have to be solved in the privacy of her bedroom tonight.
Or maybe Garrett would let her borrow his amazing shower with all those pulsing jets. She could have one hell of an orgasm in no time at all if she could direct one of those jets in the direction of her clit.
And once again, she thought of him in the shower, where he was right now. Only she was thinking of climbing in the shower with him, wrapping her hand around his cock, and massaging his ache at the same time she got herself off.
She’d wager that, like the rest of him, his cock was spectacular and that when he got hard, he knew exactly what to do with it. As she slipped her hands under the hot water, sliding a plate under to rinse it, she thought of what his cock would feel like as the shower water poured over both of them. Garrett’s hands would smooth down her back to cup her butt, drawing her closer to his erection. She’d spread her legs so he could spear his cock inside her, shoving her against the wall as he did.
Sex with him would be hard. Passionate. All consuming. Oh so satisfying.
Her * clenched at the mental visual, and she drew closer to the kitchen counter, needing an orgasm so badly that just about any type of friction would get her there. But her hands were wet, and she had no idea how fast a shower Garrett took, so she wouldn’t chance it. If she were alone, she wouldn’t care. She’d dip her wet hands down the front of her shorts and take care of the matter right here. In her current state it wouldn’t take long to get off.
If she hurried and finished the dishes, she could run into the bedroom and take care of this problem, and then maybe she could concentrate on her job instead of thinking about Garrett and his hot, thick—
“I feel a lot better now.”
She whirled around, water flying everywhere. “What? I was just doing dishes.”
His lips curved as he walked in. “I see that. Need some help?”
“No. Just finishing up with the last pan here.” Her cheeks flushed hot, but she had no idea why she was blushing. Garrett had no idea that she’d been fantasizing about him, so she needed to calm down. She finished washing the pan and dried her hands.
“I’m going to . . . uh . . . brush my teeth and floss. I’ll be right back.”
He looked up from the spot he’d taken on the sofa. “Sure.”
She fled down the hall and shut the door to the bedroom, locking it behind her.
Two minutes. That’s all she needed. An ease of tension, a release. Once she got that, she’d stop thinking about him, and she’d be normal again, instead of some crazy, libido-driven lunatic on the verge of a breakdown.
She lay down on the bed and took a deep breath, blew it out, then slid her hand inside her shorts.
She was still hot, bothered, and throbbing; the mere touch of her hand on her * sent her hips arching upward. She bit back the moan, though the bedroom was a long way from the living room. She could probably scream out loud, and Garrett wouldn’t hear her. But she wasn’t confident he’d stay in there, so she kept quiet as she skated her fingers over her swollen flesh. She closed her eyes, imagining Garrett pushing her up against the kitchen counter, dragging her shorts down, and putting his mouth on her aching sex.
“Yes,” she whispered. “Yes, right there.”
He had a sexy mouth, and she wanted it on her *. She bit down on her lip and rubbed her clit, already so close to coming she dug her heels into the mattress. But she wanted to delay, just a few more seconds, to enjoy the buildup as she envisioned him dipping two fingers inside her while he captured her clit between his lips. And when she tucked her fingers into her *, she couldn’t hold back the moan that escaped, nor could she suppress the cry of delight as she released, tunneling her fingers deep and using the heel of her hand to rub against her clit.
She let her hips fall against the bed and breathed in and out, realizing that all she’d done was take the edge off.
The desire, the need—it was still there.