What was I doing?
I was about to lose it on the shower wall, my hand right back where I’d started.
I should stop. I should look away at least.
But I wasn’t a gentleman—not when she was in here, looking likethat.
Apparently, I was a man with no morals at all, devouring every inch of skin she revealed like a parched man who’d just found holy water in the desert.
She reached for the bottom of her sports bra, and my chest seized up, knowing what was coming next. She peeled the tight thing off, getting comically tangled before she freed herself, but I didn’t have it in me to laugh. Not when I was staring at the world’s most perfect tits.
How lucky was I about to be?
Fuck.
No.
I was a disciplined person.
Friday night had been a one time thing, and from here on out,we were going to slow this all down. Take our time. We deserved that.Shedeserved that. I dragged both hands down my face in agony.
Discipline was my middle name,yeah,I could stay in control. She approached the open section of glass and pushed that sorry excuse for underwear down her legs, and my eyes shuddered as I bit my knuckles with a groan.
She moved to pull her hair out of the ponytail. “Leave it.” I demanded hoarsely before I even realized what I was saying. Apparently, I was no better than a simple-minded brute. Sara dropped her hand, eyes glimmering while she left her hair in thatoh so temptinghigh pony.
My fingers tingled, dick ached. I couldn’t remember what I was supposed to be doing, or rather,notdoing. I wanted to wrap that ponytail around my fist. Wanted to haul her up against the wall and?—
No!
But she’s in here looking likethat.
Stick to the plan.
No fucking way. It’s not a want, it’s aNEED.
She’s forever.
Would it really be so bad if forever started today?
Stick to the plan.
—what was the plan again? My brain short-circuited.
Sara sauntered across the walk-in shower and casually grabbed a washcloth off the teak towel stand. I clenched and unclenched my fists as she stepped under the stream of hot water, just barely brushing against me as she reached past me for the soap.
Fucking hell.I squeezed my eyes shut—maybe if I didn’t look. If I couldn’t see her, she couldn’t see me. Right? Like an ostrich. I’d just jam my head in the proverbial sand. Only now, very dirty things were playing on my very own personal movie screen, torturing me from inside my head.
It didn’t matter that I couldn’t see her, I could smell her. She’d just come from a run and had that slightly sweaty smell, theone that reminded me of other cardio-type workouts—of the horizontal variety.Fucking hell!
“I’ve been doing some thinking.” She started innocently enough, and I peeked as she lathered up the washcloth and began to scrub her arms.
I swallowed hard, immediately realizing I should have kept my eyes closed. “Yeah?”
“Mhmm.” She hummed, all too amused with herself.
I wanted to reach out and touch her so badly. Wanted to slip my fingers between her legs,no, wanted to drop to my knees and worship at the altar of her body, get a taste of heaven itself.
“You said we shouldn’t do morethingsuntil we figure this all out.”
