And considering Émile’s words earlier about seeing how vocal he can make me, there’s a good chance there’s about to be a lot for them to overhear.
“We’re going,” Seven assures me, tugging Xander after him. I wait until they’ve descended the stairs before I step inside. There’s no guarantee they’re gone and haven’t just run off to collect the others, but while Seven is a bit of a gossip, he’s also my friend, so I’d like to think he’ll respect my wishes.
The bathroom is already steamed up andfucking hell. Émile is in the shower. Completely naked.
Plump, white ass cheeks stand out against his tan.
My mouth is dry as my gaze follows the rivulets of water running down his back.
Holy shit he’s hot.
“Sorry for the holdup,” I say. “I was ambushed outside.”
“The running didn’t work, huh?” he calls over the sound of the shower.
“Not with having to duck into my bedroom.” I start to unbutton my shirt, but I’m only halfway down when Émile turns to face me.
His gaze darkens as he looks me over, but my attention immediately zeros in on his dick. Flushed red and standing at attention. Nest of pubes at the base, and right above them is a pair of sexy fucking cum gutters.
“Damn.” I reach down and adjust my rapidly thickening cock. “You’re a thousand times sexier than I’d been imagining.”
Émile gives himself a long, slow stroke. “I look even better up close.”
And that’s all the encouragement I need. It’s a fight to strip out of my sticky shirt and tight pants. Clothes that cost an absolute fortune, and I should be worried about never getting my deposit back on them, but I’m too lust drunk to care. I ball them up and toss them into the corner before shoving down my briefs and kicking them to the side.
Émile sucks in a breath that makes his chest expand dramatically. “I’m going to need you to hurry up now.”
You and me both. I step into the shower and pull the door closed behind me and then we both stand there, under the warm water, taking each other in.
His pink nipples, his light dusting of chest hair, the way his narrow waist funnels downward.
Émile reaches out to run a finger over the lines between my abs, causing the muscles to jump at the contact. I hold back my moan, gaze following the paths of his fingerprints over my skin. It’s blissful torture. Even under the heat of the shower, my skin is prickling, aching for his next move while begging him to touch me everywhere.
I can hear my inhales and exhales over the beat of water, see the stuttered way my chest is moving, and when Émile turns hiseyes up to catch mine, he’s so close I can make out flecks of green and brown in them.
“No starving artist here,” he says, voice dipped and husky.
“Sorry to disappoint.”
“Trust me when I say there isn’t a single thing disappointing me in this moment.”
I pinch his chin, angling his head a little. “Can I kiss you?”
“Well, I’m not here to watch you shower.”
A short laugh falls from my lips before my mouth covers his. It’s tentative at first, like a sip of something hot, a toe dipped in water, but the instant his mouth opens for mine, my tongue drives forward.
Émile’s body collides with mine, back hits the tile, and I hold his face and kiss him like I’ve been desperate to all night. His tongue is strong, firm, warring with mine, even as he nips and bites and sucks, deepening the kiss until I can barely breathe.
I’m no stranger to hookups, to one-night stands, but this … this feels like more. I’m not an idiot, I know what’s happening here, but after everything he’s done for me tonight, getting to do this with him feels like a huge fucking reward.
His mouth curls upward as he drags deft fingers down my back.
“Not what I was expecting,” he murmurs against my lips.
“What do you mean?”
“You’ve been playing the part of this timid little thing, and now you’re ready to eat me alive.”