“I remember.”
“I used to stand under the water and jack off to memories of you in those fucking flowery shorts.”
My mouth pops open, and embarrassment and arousal blossom down my neck, coloring my skin. “My pajamas?”
He sucks his bottom lips between his teeth as his eyes rake down my body. “There were so many times I had to leave the room to stop myself from slipping my hand up your shorts just to see if you had underwear on.”
Is it possible to orgasm from words alone?
Water splashes over Lucas’s hand and onto the tiles as he turns on the shower and tests the temperature.
He reaches for my gown and unties the knot. “I imagined you sneaking in here and locking the door.”
My breathing spikes.
“You’d strip, open your legs, and show me that pretty pussy, and I’d stand as close as I could without touching you and watch. I justified it that way. If we didn’t touch, then it wasn’t cheating.”
My heart thumps too hard, and the lust hazing my thoughts clears. If Lucas had told me this while I was married, I would have been as unfaithful to Ben as he was to me.
Guilt gnaws at me, almost doubling me over with the sudden realization.
I was so enraged by Ben’s infidelity that I was blind to my own—I didn’t touch Lucas while I was married, but I wanted to.
My marriage never stood a chance, not while Ben was still in love with his ex and I was in love with his…
No.
No. No. No.
My hands feel clammy, and my heart beats so hard my chest aches.
This is just an infatuation.
“So beautiful,” Lucas murmurs.
His words make me want to believe what I shouldn’t.
Why does he make me feel brave and passionate and all the things I forgot I could be?
Why does the thought of leaving him behind twist like a knife in my chest?
I step back and grip the bathroom vanity, using it as leverage to seat myself on top.
“What are you doing?”
Distracting myself. I lift my feet onto the countertop and slowly open my legs. “Giving you your fantasy.”
His eyes follow my fingers as they dip between.
Lucas steps toward me.
I shake my head. “No touching, remember.”
I’m barely holding my thoughts inside. If he touches me, I might confess every confusing emotion and screw this night up.
His nostrils flare, and he looks like he is about to argue, but he curls his hands into fists and presses them to his thighs.
Good.