He grinned and grudgingly turned his back to her, grunting out a sigh.
She wriggled out of her leather shorts and tossed them up on the counter as well. When she did, she saw his head turn a fraction of an inch and his eyes fall on the discarded clothing as she continued to toss piece by piece up on the counter.
She unknotted his flannel shirt, pulled it off and flung it up there.
Next her bra was added to the growing pile.
And lastly, her panties, like a cherry on top. She saw the muscle in his jaw clench when she got to those, and she couldn’t help but smirk. At least she was having some effect on him. Maybe she could torture him just a bit in retaliation.
She wasted no time moving into the far stall. Turning on the knobs, she soon had hot water shooting out the showerhead to cascade down her body. It felt wonderful. She grinned and moaned with delight, loud enough for Ghost to hear, knowing the sound would get to him.
“Hmm, this is heavenly. The warm water running over my body feels so good.” God, she should get an Academy Award.
She heard Ghost clear his throat.
“That good, huh?”
“Um hmm. I may never come out,” she purred, really rubbing it in.
“I’m not standing here all night, babe, so move it along.”
She grinned, knowing by the snap in his voice that she was really getting to him.
She bent down and uncapped the body wash someone had left, bringing it to her nose. It had a manly scent that she actually kind of liked. She poured some into her palm and began washing. Then she shampooed her hair. As she was rinsing the lather out, she heard Ghost growl, “Get the fuck out, bro.”
“What the hell, man?” a deep voice complained.
“Move.”
“Fuck.”
Jessie panicked, crossing her arms over her chest and huddling against the divider, wondering what was happening. She heard a bang like a fist had hit the wooden wall, then some stomping.
“Ghost?” she called hesitantly.
“He’s gone. Hurry it up, brat.”
For once she did as she was told, dropping the seduction scene and quickly rinsing off.
A few minutes later she turned off the water and peeked out around the divider. “I, um, need a towel.”
She watched as Ghost yanked his cut off to fling it on the counter, then ripped his tee over his head. Her eyes slid over his exposed chest. Good God, but he was beautiful. That was definitely not the body of a boy anymore. He was all thickly muscled man. Before she could regain her tongue to ask what he was doing, he tossed his tee shirt to her.
“Here, use that,” he growled.
She grabbed it up and looked down at it. “Are you serious?”
“Hey, this ain’t the Hilton. There’s no towel service out here. It’s that or nothing.”
She rolled her eyes and retreated back around the divider to dry off as best she could. When she was done, she peeked back out, holding his damp shirt in front of her.
“I need my clothes.”
Ghost was leaning against the counter, his booted ankles crossed and arms folded, his eyes on his boots. When she spoke, he lifted them to her, and then the corner of his mouth pulled up, and he challenged, “Then come get ‘em.”
“Ghost!”
“Yeah?”