“Touché,” he murmurs. “Anyway, I’m not leaving, so stop assuming the worst.”
“Who said you leaving was the worst case scenario?” I ask, my voice light.
A slow smile spreads across Luke’s face. “Don’t pretend like you don’t fucking want me, woman.” He reaches for me, but I dodge his grasp as he laughs, breezing past me toward the front door. “I’m going to go chase down my dog, but when I get back, you’re going to pay for your smart ass.”
When he returns, I’ve just finished brushing my teeth, and he walks up behind me, sliding cold hands around my waist that make me squeal. “You’re freezing!” I hiss. “Maybe I don’t want you in my bed.”
“I’ll keep you warm, Red,” he says, wiggling his eyebrows. I can see his reflection in the mirror above the sink, and it makes me laugh. “Unless you’re giving me the boot. Hit it and quit it?”
I turn around to face him, my ass pressed up against the bathroom counter, and he flicks open my robe with his finger. He looks down at me, and heat rushes between my legs, despite the fact that I just had him. “Isn’t that what we said?” I ask. “We’re friends.”
"That's what you said." Luke trails his finger up the inside of my thigh, one light stroke. "I never said such a thing."
“You said you didn’t have women friends,” I say, my voice breaking as he moves his fingers up higher, between my legs.
“This is a case in point,” he says, pressing his fingertip firmly against my clit.
“We’re totally friends.”
"Uh-huh," he agrees. Never breaking eye contact, he slides two fingers inside me, and my breath catches in my throat. "I don't know about you, but I don't do what the hell I just did with you with any of my friends."
“Mmm-hmm.” I have no response, not when he’s touching me like that.
"Get in the shower," he commands, sliding his hand from between my legs. "Friend."
I laugh. "I hope you don’t shower with your friends."
“Well, I did play football,” he points out, pressing me against the shower wall as soon as I step inside, “but none of those guys were nearly as hot as you are naked.”
“I hope not,” I say before his mouth covers mine. His hand slides along my naked body, slick with water, and I lose myself in his touch. He spins me around, washing my body slowly with a more careful touch than I’d expect.
I protest when he insists on washing my hair, but he pulls me tight against his wet body, his hardness pressed against my lower back, arm over my chest, kissing my ear until I’m barely able to think, let alone tell him no. "Let me take care of you," he says, and I lean back against him, my eyes closing as he washes my hair.
He washes my freaking hair.
Slowly and… erotically. I had no idea hair washing could in any way be sexy at all, but I swear Luke has a way of making everything pretty much the hottest thing ever. He massages my head until I’m moaning at his touch as the shower water runs over my body, taunting me, reminding me of the emptiness between my legs.
"Is this good?" he asks.
"Mmm-hmm, good," I say, my words barely intelligible.
He chuckles, his mouth close to my ear. The sound of his laughter is warm. "Good."
"So is this a younger guy thing?" I ask, goose bumps running up my back as he massages my neck, his hands moving down lower across my shoulders.
"Is what a younger guy thing?"
"Mmm, I don't know," I moan, my voice soft. "All of this. The sex, the hair washing. The whole thinking-I'm-hot thing.”
He doesn’t speak yet. Instead, he slides one arm around me, holding me against him while he reaches around between my legs, finding my clit. His erection presses firmly against me, and the throbbing between my legs begs for his attention. "I hope not," he admits finally. "Isn't that what… men your age… do?"
I choke out a laugh, partly at what he says and partly at his hesitating choice of words. Men my age. "Uh, no," I say. "Not exactly."
He rubs my clit in circles, sending a thrill of arousal ricocheting through my body. "Sweetheart, that's a damn shame," he says, "and I do mean that."
Then he's kissing me, down my neck and my shoulders. I’m dizzy, drunk with lust and fatigue. "Condom," he whispers. "Shit. Hang on."
I only have to hang on for a minute, my fingers on my clit while he steps out of the shower, and when he returns and sees me touching myself, he groans. "Fuck, Red."
"What?"
"If I weren't so worked up already, I'd make you do that a while longer, just for me."
He's behind me, the way we were a moment ago, and when he enters me, I'm already swollen with arousal. "Keep doing it," he whispers. "Keep touching yourself while I fuck you."
"Do you like that?" I ask as he fucks me, his movements perfect, bringing me higher and higher so quickly it takes my breath away. "Me touching myself?"