He chuckled. “More like a sexy nightmare.”
“Hey!” She smacked his biceps. Bananas let out a whao-whao-whao.
“What? I said sexy.”
She headed to the bathroom. “There’s an extra toothbrush in the linen closet. Upstairs hallway to the right.”
Perdie leaned against the outside glass door of the shower as steam filled the air, letting her robe fall from her shoulders and pool on the floor by her feet. She took another pull from her vape, naked now, and already growing pleasantly fuzzy from the effects. Within a few minutes, the throbbing in her temples subsided and the nausea settled, leaving her contentedly warm, swallowed up in hot mist. She was lucky. Vaping didn’t always work that way for her hangovers. Hurray for small Christmas miracles.
She set the apparatus on the sink counter and stepped under the hot stream of water. The scent of orange and vanilla wafted through the air. She dribbled the honey-like liquid onto her palm and massaged it deep into her scalp.
Once done, she zoned out, soothing water cascading down her head and face and body like one of those dome-shaped yard fountains.
As she lathered up another loofah, a quiet knock thumped the door. She froze. Carter hadn’t actually seen her body before—only flashes, bits and pieces. A graze here, a grope there. A feel, a flick. And then there were those times when various body parts of his had been fully inside various parts of hers. But still, here she was, wet, hot, and in the buff.
“Yeah?” Her voice croaked.
The door cracked, and a cool gust of dry air billowed through. His form entered into blurry view. The dripping loofah in her hand slipped foamy soap down her chest. He yanked his shirt over his head and tossed it to the ground.
Holy fuck. She was about to see him naked too.
Then his thumbs stretched the elastic band at his waist and shoved the sweatpants down, and he kicked them to the side. She bit her lip in anticipation. She could practically feel the rough scratch of his fingertips against her slippery skin. Could feel her hands smoothing over the hard jut of his erection.
The shower door squeaked open. “Can I come in?”
She gulped as her brain processed all of him at once in hard, naked flesh. His body was long, lean but cut. Hair traveled neatly from above his erection to his belly button, leading to six-pack abs, then fanning out over his chest. His shoulders were broad and veins traveled up and down the bulges of his arms.
He was a hulking mass of muscle but he wasn’t a brute as she had yelled the night before. And despite the beautifully masculine cut of his jaw, and the dark furrowed arch of his eyebrows, he wasn’t a Pretty Boy either, as she liked to tease so much.
Nope. Carter Leplan was neither brute nor Pretty Boy: he was simply all man from head to toe.
“Well, you’re already dressed for the occasion.” She stepped aside so he could stand beneath the water.
“You’ve been in here for forty-five minutes.”
Whoopsie daisies. High times.
She shivered as his hand found her skin. He swirled his index finger on the clinging foam, spreading it over the swell of her breast, trailing it to the edge of her pebbled nipple, barely grazing the delicate pinkness. The vibrant colors and black graphic lines that decorated his left arm and shoulder in dizzying, abstract patterns contrasted sharply against her own bare skin.
“Tell me about these,” she said, following a thick banded line traveling up his arm. His skin was hot to the touch.
“I don’t divulge that information until after the third date.”
“Third date? You’ve been inside me.”
“And don’t forget it.” He rolled his head on his neck as her nails grazed the corded muscles. “But I need more...”
“More...what?”
He grasped her hand with the loofah, scraped it to his chest, the same soapy trail gliding down his body until it reached the crisp hair above his cock. She let the loofah drop, her gaze dropping with it, and she filled her hand with his erection, eyes fixated on the hard protrusion. She fisted it with long, smooth strokes, squeezing at the head.
His head fell back. “I think about you all the time,” he gasped.
“Think about me? Like wet and naked?” Another smooth stroke, up and down.
“That too. But mostly, I just think about you. Everything about you.”
She rested her forehead against his chest before tipping her chin to see him. She continued the leisurely pumping. “How can you admit that so easily?”
His breath grew shallow; he brought his thumb to circle her nipple until he leaned in close, drawing the tip into his mouth with a hard suck. She gasped at the sensation, a spike of pleasure stabbing at her insides, the nipple leaving his mouth with a popping noise.
“How can I admit what?” His mouth traveled to her other nipple, lavishing the tip with his tongue before giving it a long suck again, then lapped at the water on the tip. When he spoke, it was against the swell of her breast. “That you’re the first thing on my mind in the morning and the last thing I think about before I close my eyes at night?”
“You’re talking nonsense.” Her fingernails scraped through the wet hair on his head. “I guess you’re used to everyone instantly falling in love with you.”
He unfolded, nuzzling her neck, tongue and lips meeting the skin there, trailing to the sensitive folds of her ears. “Not everyone.”
She yelped as he pushed her against the cold, wet tile, forcing her to release her hold on his erection as he pinned her hands over her head, holding her hostage by her wrists. He bucked his hips into her belly.
She arched her back as his free hand groped her tits hard, the flesh spilling over in his palm, the ragged calluses on his skin rough against her sensitized nipples. His voice was harsh. “We aren’t fucking against a wall again, Bad Girl, no matter how hard you try to tempt me. Not this time.”
A whimper escaped her as he kneaded at her flesh.
“I’m taking you to the bedroom. I’m sitting you on my lap and I’m making you ride my dick until you forget your own name and can only remember mine. You got that?”
“Carter...”
“Ah, catching on quick. I knew you would.” He kissed her hard on the mouth. He tasted clean, like peppermint toothpaste. But his kiss was dirty, tongue thrusting in and out without finesse or politeness, fucking her mouth with his own. It was primal, sloppy. She met it with her own thrusts until she moaned.
