“Your clothes,” she said, looking down at his now-saturated shirt.
“Don’t worry about me, freckles. Just hold on to that towel bar behind you and let me make you feel good.”
Her gaze went hazy with arousal and maybe a little fear, but she followed his instruction. He kept an arm banded around her to make sure she was steady on her feet, then he slipped his hand beneath the edge of the towel, brushing against the smoothness of her inner thighs and sliding upward to find the damp thatch of hair at their juncture. She closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the shower wall. God, he wanted to yank that towel off her, see her stretched out like this and totally bare, but he knew if he took it that far, he’d end up inside her, taking more than he had any right to. He brushed his finger along her cleft, and she bucked against him, the simple touch pulling a moan from her.
The sound was like a stroke to his cock, her sensitivity like waving a red flag in front of a bull. Oh, how he could torture someone so responsive, drag out her pleasure until she was begging for release. “Darlin’, if you’re that keyed up, this isn’t going to take long.”
“Please,” she whispered, her hips tilting toward his touch.
He smiled, giving her what she sought, a firm slide over her clit. The nub seemed to swell beneath his fingers, her arousal coating his skin despite the shower water pounding down on them. He could smell her sexy scent, so sweet and tempting. He’d love to part those thighs and taste every bit of her, but instead he tucked two fingers inside her heat and kept his thumb against her clit.
“Oh, God.” Her body clenched around his fingers and she rocked against his hand, shamelessly taking things to the pace she craved. Needy. Starved.
“That’s right,” he said against her ear as he pumped his fingers inside her. “Take what you need. Let yourself go.”
As if she’d been waiting for the words, she let out a sharp cry and her fingers went bloodless against the towel bar. The tremor of orgasm seemed to go through every inch of her, her body quivering in front of him, going flushed and pink. Quick, breathy gasps slipped past her lips as she undulated against his touch, milking every bit of pleasure she could.
His cock pressed against his zipper, begging for relief, for her, but he clenched his jaw and willed the ache away. He knew how to hold back his own need for hours in a play session. He could handle this. At least that’s what he kept repeating in his head as Charli drifted down from her quick-and-dirty orgasm.
He moved his hand away from her and resisted the urge to lick her arousal from his fingers, to let her watch how he would savor her taste. Or even better, to paint it over her nipples and then suck them clean. His cock flexed and he held back a groan. He was on the precipice of losing his control. This had been a bad idea. If she could push him to this point with him simply touching her, he was in trouble.
He reached out and turned off the shower. Her eyes fluttered open, the daze of orgasm still heavy in her expression. Her hands slipped off the bar and she pushed her sopping hair away from her face. “Wow, that was…I don’t usually…”
He smiled, though the effort was strained from his own keyed-up state. “Feel better?”
“So much better. Thank you.” She pushed off the wall and reached for the nape of his neck. He watched the play of desire move over her features, loving the way her fingers tightened against his skin. He found himself contemplating how easy it would be to loosen that towel, bind her arms with it, and take her right there against the shower wall. Her look said she would let him. But before he could truly lose all sense of right and wrong, she lifted up on her toes, her face moving toward him. Panic zipped through him like an electric bolt when he realized what she was going to do, and he instinctively moved his head to the left, dodging the kiss.
She blinked up at him, surprised by the quick movement, then she registered what he’d done. A cold mask crossed over her features.
“Charli, we can’t, I can’t—”
She grabbed the top of her towel, which was now sagging with the weight of all the water, and held it tight, not looking up. “Right. I get it.”
“Charli,” he repeated.
“No, really. It’s fine. I got off, and that’s what I asked for. Much obliged. You can go now.”
He wanted to explain, to reach out and fix that wounded expression. But the damage was already done. And having her think he didn’t want to take this anywhere was for the best. Max didn’t send his sister here so that Grant could get her into his bed. And hell, he couldn’t even remember the last time he’d had vanilla sex with anyone. This had been a mistake all around. She was everything he didn’t look for in a woman.
Too bad his dick didn’t give a damn about any of that.
He stepped out of the shower, his wet boots leaving puddles on the floor. “I’m sorry, Charli.”
She turned her back to him. “Shut the door behind you.”
He did exactly that, heading out of the house and leaving a wet trail behind him.
And the asshole award goes to…
The air outside had turned cooler and chilled his clothes against his skin as he made his way back to his cabin. Served him right for losing control like that. He should’ve walked straight out that door in the first place. If she had needed a release, she could’ve handled that herself. She didn’t need him to come in and save the day. The move had been selfish on all levels.r: Roni Loren
“The Internet signal sucks. Thought if I got close enough to your cabin, I could catch your wireless if you had it.”
“You could’ve called me.”
She gave him a warning glance, no doubt anticipating a hindsight lecture, but he kept quiet. Some things didn’t need to be said.
Once she’d cleaned off what she could, Grant bent and put an arm beneath her knees and under her back, lifting her with one swift movement and catching her by surprise based on the hitch in her breath.