“God dang, the sexual tension in this room is out of this world.” Sheldon chuckles low.
“Tell me about it.” Blake grins. “Heath, man, take that woman and get some of that out of your system or I will.”
My cheeks burn hotter.
“Get fucked,” Heath growls at him.
Blake’s grin gets so big that dimples pop out in his cheeks. “Possessive, too.”
“Ah,” I say, turning and ducking my head as I hurry towards Heath’s room. “I’m going to have a shower.”
I disappear and shut the door when I reach his bedroom, exhaling loudly. They’re right, the tension is huge. Why is it the second you know you can’t have something, you want it? I know exactly why. Because the temptation of wanting what you can’t have feels so damned good.
I duck into the shower, closing the door behind me and stripping out of my clothes. Flashes of Heath’s beautiful body and face travel through my mind, and I find myself getting more aroused than I’d like. I turn the shower on far colder than I usually would and step in, letting the water glide all over me. It doesn’t help. Not even a little. I’m aching between my legs, my sex throbbing for more of what he can offer. I want to feel guilty, but I don’t. I don’t because I want him so damned bad I no longer care about the consequences.
My hands move before my mind registers what’s happening, sliding down my body and slipping between my legs. I’ve never been so turned on over the thought of a man in my entire life, not even with Gerard. Heath does something to me; he ignites a fire in my soul that I can’t seem to extinguish. It just burns brighter and hotter until eventually, I’m going to explode with wanting.
My fingers graze over my clit, and I whimper. Swollen and aching, my body is already on board for whatever I have to offer it. I turn, pressing my back to the shower wall and spreading my legs a little farther, massaging softly at first, and then increasing in pressure as images of Heath and I at my house flitter through my mind. God. He was incredible in bed. Incredible with his mouth. Incredible with his hands.
Dammit.
I want him again. I fucking need him.
“God fucking dammit.”
I jerk, and my hand drops from between my legs as a little gasp leaves my lips. Heath is standing at the door, boxers straining with his erection as he looks at me, the lusty glance he held earlier now filled with pure, raw need. My cheeks burn and I stammer, “I, ah . . .”
“I know exactly what you were doing,” he says, his voice so low and thick it’s hard to make out each word. “Fuck. It’s taking everything for me not to come in there, throw your leg around my waist, and slam you against that wall until we’re both coming.”
I shiver.
“You want it, too. Don’t you, baby?”
I lick my bottom lip. “I wasn’t touching myself for nothing.”
He growls. “Tell me to get out. Tell me I can’t have you again.”
My clit throbs, the desperation travelling deep into my belly. “You can’t have me again,” I say even though I want to throw myself out of the shower and into his arms.
“You’re a liar.”
“I know,” I say, running my hands boldly down my body. “I know I am.”
“I’m walking away now, because I made a promise to do this right,” he rasps, his eyes dropping to my pussy before he turns and clearly forces himself out of the room.
My stomach dips with disappointment, yet my heart explodes with awe that he would be so respectful. A small smile plays around my lips as an idea comes to mind. If he’s so adamant on not having me, I’ll have to make him suffer.
Just a little.
***
It takes more than a little courage to do what I do next.
I finish my shower, and pull on my panties and one of Heath’s shirts, which covers my bottom and goes halfway down my thighs. Still, I know it’s sexy, and a massive risk. I can’t help it—something about him makes me want to play dirty, or even more—be dirty. I’ve never been that girl. I’ve always been the clean, little make-love-sweetly kind of woman. But with him, I’m willing to do whatever it takes to make him ache for me.
I take a deep, shaky breath and walk out of the room and into the main living area. All the men are sitting around a table talking, so I saunter past and into the kitchen. It doesn’t escape my notice that the talking stops. Smothering my sly little grin, I reach up to a taller cupboard and take down a stack of plates. I know the lower part of my bottom is showing, and when I turn around with the plates in my hand, I know I’ve gotten the reaction I wanted.
I just didn’t expect it out of all of them.
They’re all staring at me with a mixture of tight jaws or sly smiles.
Heath looks pissed. And horny. Mostly pissed.