We never stop kissing, and when he moves to take off my shirt, I stop him, ending the kiss, my hand covering his. “I haven’t showered,” I warn.
“I don’t care,” he says, leaning in to kiss me again, but I press my fingers to his mouth, halting him.
“I feel gross.” I drop my fingers from his lips and he contemplates me, his expression serious.
“You should take a shower then,” he says, rising to his feet and offering his hand to me.
I take his hand and stand, then follow him into the massive bathroom, marveling at all the gleaming white tile everywhere, the giant, sleek glass shower. He opens the door and reaches inside, turning the water on with a few quick twists of his wrist. Within seconds I can tell the water is hot, the steam already rising and starting to fill the room.
“Let’s get you undressed,” he says, reaching again for the hem of my shirt.
“Jordan,” I warn, feeling suddenly modest, which is silly.
And he knows it too, from the incredulous look he’s giving me. “I’ve seen you naked before, Mandy. Plenty of times.”
“I know, but this is just like…I don’t know. I’ve got airport funk on me and I’ve been in the same clothes for the last twenty-four hours or whatever.” I’ve lost complete track of time. “I’m not sexy, like at all.” I wrinkle my nose at him, but he’s undeterred.
“You’re always sexy to me,” he says, sweeping me into his arms and kissing me senseless.
I struggle against him, batting at his chest until he finally breaks away from my lips, frowning at me like I’m irritating the hell out of him. “Please. Let me take a shower first,” I tell him, resting my hands on his chest. “Then I’ll be up for anything.”
His brows lift. “Anything?”
I smooth my hands up and down his chest, impressed yet again with all the hard, warm muscle I feel beneath my palms. “Yes. Anything.”
“Better take a quick shower then, since I have to leave soon.” He drops a kiss on the tip of my nose. “How about I join you?”
I heave an exaggerated sigh, like he’s really putting me out. “Fine,” I say, smiling
when he scowls.
“You sure you don’t want me to call in an order for room service?” he offers. “So it’ll be ready after the shower?”
Yeah, I’m really not that hungry. I think I’ve gone beyond tired and hungry, and now I’m just existing. Sparked to life by Jordan. “I’m fine. Really.” I start to strip, until I’m standing in front of him in only my no-nonsense beige panties.
Definitely not sexy.
But Jordan is looking at me like he wants to eat me up, which is encouraging. His gaze never leaves me as he quickly strips too, until he’s standing in front of me with absolutely nothing on. And trust me, a naked Jordan is a sight to behold. His body is absolute male perfection. He’s already semi-erect, and when my gaze drops, I swear he grows even harder.
Mentally tossing my modesty out the window, I step out of my panties, kicking them away. Jordan opens the shower door and ushers me inside, slapping my ass as I enter the shower with a loud smack.
“Ow.” I turn and glare at him, but he just grins and steps into the shower, shutting the door behind him.
He wastes no time, grabbing the tiny bottle of shampoo and opening it, pouring the golden liquid into the palm of his hand. He rubs them together, watching me as I duck under the hot spray of water. “Come closer,” he says, and I step toward him. “Now turn around. I’ll wash your hair for you.”
Oh my God, he’s going to spoil me. His fingers dig into my scalp with expert precision and I close my eyes, enjoying the head massage. He works the shampoo into my hair as he steps even closer to me, and I can feel him. He’s so very warm—hotter than the shower. Skin slick with water. His erection brushes against my thigh.
“Feels so good,” I say with a little moan, leaning my head back as he guides me under the spray of water.
He helps me wash the shampoo out, running his fingers through my hair again and again. His touch makes me tingle, and it’s not even sexual, but all he has to do is look at me and I want him, so this is no surprise.
“There you go,” he says, and I pop my eyes open to see him reach for the bar of soap. “Now I’ll wash you.”
“I need conditioner first,” I tell him.
Jordan rolls his eyes and grabs the conditioner, opening the tiny bottle and squeezing a dollop of the thick white liquid into his palm. He distributes it throughout my hair, combing it in with his fingers. When he’s finished, I’m the one who picks up the soap and starts running it all over his body, exploring.
I’ve never had sex in the shower before, not that I’d tell him that. I’d rather keep my sexual activity of the last six years a mystery. Let him imagine all the many men I’ve been with since we broke up. Let him think I’ve been doing all kinds of interesting things.