Her fingers began lifting off my shirt, removing my pants, and it was way too slow. I toed off my shoes and shrugged off my pants, kicked them off my feet. I yanked off her shirt and bent down on the floor, pulling off her boots and sliding her jeans down with one hand. Then I lifted her and pulled us under the warm spray of water.
We kissed long and hard, breaking to lather each other up, our hands touching everywhere we could. She tenderly washed my hand and kissed each one of my knuckles. I ran my good hand down her side, traveling over her side cleavage, my finger sliding over to her nipple and circling it. My fingers got greedy and traveled lower to slide inside her and she moaned out loud, the sound reverberating off the tiles.
I wanted to roar.
I wanted to punch.
I wanted to cry.
But the primal caveman inside me took over, and I savored the woman in front of me. She came on my fingers, bucking and squeezing. I milked it for all it was worth, and then my index finger got bold. It followed the seam of her folds, back to her ass, and toyed with her hole. She clenched her ass cheeks tight and then released them, granting me access.
I’d been down that road before, but not in a glorious ass like this one. Her cheeks were firm, yet ripe. Her hole was tight and puckered, ready and waiting. I traveled past the seam and pushed my way in.
Charli bit my shoulder. “It feels good. Different, but good. Is that weird?”
“It should feel good, and nothing we do should be weird.”
Her lips grazed my neck. “Yeah,” she said, and she pushed her ass back into my hand.
My erection rubbed against her wet stomach. Our mouths fused again and I greedily swallowed all of her moans as her climax mixed with shower water. When I slid my finger out, she let out a whimper that lit my soul on fire.
“I want you,” she said, now riding my thigh. Before I could react, she wrapped her arms around my neck and hoisted herself around my waist.
“Okay?” I wasn’t sure why I checked in. She’d gone on the pill two months ago and we’d ditched protection, but after what had happened earlier ... all of a sudden, I needed reassurance.
“Hey.” She kissed my lips, her kiss closed-mouth and full of feeling. “I. Love. You. I’ve not been with anyone else, even a kiss on the cheek.”
The fact she knew what I needed was reassurance enough. I guided myself inside her, going slowly until I was balls-deep.
“Yes,” she hissed.
I pressed her back against the tile and tried, really tried, to keep it slow. But I couldn’t. Emotion controlled my dick’s pace and I rammed into her, holding her steady so her back didn’t bruise.
“Yes,” she hissed again.
We went at it like that until her release coated me, her beautiful breasts rising and falling with her heavy breaths, and I couldn’t last much longer. One pump, two, and I was climaxing. It felt like a dam burst inside me, releasing the misery of the entire afternoon and letting it wash away.
The water turned cool and I shut off the faucet, grabbing two towels from the rack and bundling Charli before wrapping the other around my waist. I hoisted her out of the shower stall and carried her over my shoulder to the bed, where I yanked down the covers and settled her in. I snagged my jeans from our rumpled pile of clothes in the bathroom and checked my pockets before climbing in, grabbing my girl, and never letting go.
With her settled against my chest, I asked, “Smell better?”
Her hand skimmed my stomach. It wasn’t quite as toned as when we hooked up in February, but still pretty tight.
“Yes. I’m sorry. This is all my fault.”
“Shhh.”
Her hand found mine and our fingers entwined. “It is. My mom, I don’t even know. She just had this idea and it was all wrong, and I hurt you.”
We lay there silently for a beat or two before she asked, “Why are you here? You didn’t tell me.”
“I missed you and I decided to come. I kept thinking we hadn’t saidI love you, and I wanted to. In person.”
A tear trickled down my chest, and then another. Softly, she said, “I wish it didn’t play out the way it did.”
“You know what? Our story isn’t straight and boring, and this just adds a little more flavor.”
She squeezed my wrist. “Thanks, but this is more than enough flavor. Bland may be good right about now.”
“Nah, like the ice cream you love so much, that’s us. Rich, creamy, and it takes a lot of licks to get to the cone. Our cone is strong, babe. A big waffle cone.”
“I think you’re still drunk.”
“Maybe.”
“Go to sleep,” she whispered, tracing figure-eights on my hand.
“’Kay,” was the last thing I remember saying.
