I give him a moment. “Never have I ever received a lap dance.” I smirk. “But I have given one.”
He swallows so hard his throat clicks. “Never have I ever had a one-night stand.”
I stand and wriggle out of my tight-fitting jeans.
He gapes at me. “I—didn’t know.”
I smile. I’m pretty sure he did. And that’s okay.
Chapter5
Jett
Kian’s soft smile makes my heart quiver. He’s wearing nothing but his underwear, and that’s tight enough to leave very little to the imagination. I can’t stop staring at him. The weird thing is, he lets me. He stands still with that beautiful smile, letting me gawp at him.
“Game over,” he says.
I don’t know how much time has passed since he took his jeans off. A minute? Two? Five?
“I’m going to have a shower,” he says in that easy breezy tone of his. “If you put your clothes in the washing machine, I’ll turn it on after.”
I swallow and nod. I don’t trust myself to say anything.
He leaves, and I stare at the empty doorway until he reappears, still in his underwear but carrying two towels. He puts one on the sofa beside me and then picks up his discarded clothes and my neatly folded T-shirt.
“I’ll be back soon.” He grins and goes out the door, this time turning towards the kitchen.
He walks past the open doorway a minute later with the towel wrapped around his waist. I know that’s all he’s wearing. Part of me wants to follow him into the bathroom. I’m not sure what that part of me is thinking. Yes, I’ve fancied guys before, and I’ve imagined what it might be like to be with a guy, but I’ve never wanted to act on those impulses as much as I do now.
I can’t. It’s Kian. It wouldn’t be fair to use him to explore my curiosity.
I wait a few minutes and then go to the kitchen. I strip, put my clothes in the washing machine, and wrap the towel around my waist. As I walk past the door to Kian’s room, water clatters against the plastic shower tray, muffled by the floor between me and the en suite. I go to the family bathroom, lock the door, and turn the shower on. I give it a moment to warm up and step under the stream.
It feels so good to get clean. I rub shower gel over my skin. Is that what Kian’s doing right now? Blood rushes to my cock. It becomes plumper, and heat flushes my cheeks. I shouldn’t be thinking of what Kian’s doing in the shower or what he looks like with water cascading over his pale skin.
Fuck.
I take several deep breaths, which does nothing to tame my growing erection. I change the shower temperature to cold.
“Fuck.” I have to bite my tongue to stop myself from squealing.
The cold water has the desired effect, and my cock shrivels until it looks as sad and pathetic as I feel.
I get out, dry myself, and sit on the closed toilet with the towel around my waist. Below, the washing machine whirs as the spin cycle starts. How long will our clothes take to wash? How long will they take to dry? I can’t spend hours hiding in the bathroom. Why the fuck did Rufus do this to us? Bastard.
Kian knocks on the door and speaks through it. “Are you okay?”
“Uh, yeah, I’m just getting dry.”
“Okay. Earlier you said you didn’t want to watch a film, but—”
“A film sounds great.” My skin is heating up just talking to him. Does he realise I’m hiding? Can he hear the panic in my voice?
“Great. I’ll wait for you to come down. We can choose one together.”
“You pick.”
“Umm—” Another pause. “Any genre?”
