That tiny sound sent a spark straight down my spine.
The curtain was drawn, a thin fogged plastic that turned Winnie into a moving shadow—long lines, the curve of her waist, head tipped back under the spray. She looked like some kind of water nymph someone had dropped into my shitty mortal life by mistake.
I should have said her name. Knocked. Something.
Instead, she dragged the curtain back a little to grab the soap—and froze.
Water beaded on her skin, sliding over the swell of her breasts, disappearing between her thighs. Her curls were slicked back, eyes huge when they collided with mine.
She sucked in a breath, a scream building.
I moved on instinct, closing the distance in two steps. My hand covered her mouth, my other palm flattening against her bare, wet back, pinning her gently but firmly to the cool tile.
“Hey,” I breathed by her ear, voice rough. “It’s me. It’s just me, baby. You’re okay.”
Her body was coiled tight against mine, heart slamming. My sweatpants were immediately soaked where her skin met mine, and my cock took one look at the situation and went from “annoyed” to “urgent.”
Recognition flickered in her eyes. Then fury.
She yanked my hand away and smacked my shoulder, hard enough to sting. “Beau Sterling, are you out of your goddamn mind?” she hissed. She looked like a wet, furious cat and I wanted to drop to my knees and worship. “I almost knee-capped you. I thought you were an axe murderer.”
“An axe murderer with a really impressive dick,” I said before my brain could stop my mouth.
She narrowed her eyes. “An axe murderer with a death wish. Pops hears you in here, he’s coming through that door armed, and then I’ve gotta explain why there’s a dead rich boy on my bathmat with his dick out.”
I huffed a laugh, stepping closer until our chests brushed, her wet nipples dragging across my skin like sparks. “Honestly? Worth the risk. You were in here naked without me. That offends me on a spiritual level.”
“You’re ridiculous.”
“I’m devoted.” I dipped my head, running my nose along her damp throat, breathing her in. Clean and warm and Winnie, underneath the soap. I gave the tendon there a light bite and she shivered, hands flying to my shoulders instead of pushing me away. “You want company? I can just hold you. Let you relax.”
Some of the heat left her face then, replaced by something softer, more fragile. Up close, the exhaustion was obvious—bruised circles under her eyes, the kind of tension in her jaw that didn’t come from just being turned on.
“Just a shower?” she asked quietly.
“Just a shower,” I lied automatically, then let some honesty slip in. “Unless you decide you want more.”
Color crawled up her neck. She chewed her bottom lip, eyes flicking briefly down to where my sweatpants were doing an increasingly poor job of hiding how badly I wanted her.
“Okay,” she said.
The word went through me like a live wire.
I stripped the sweats off in one motion and kicked them away. Her gaze dropped, lingering on my chest, my stomach, then lower—on the hard, heavy length of my cock jutting up between us, already flushed and slick at the tip.
“Jesus, Beau,” she muttered. “You’re always ready.”
“Only for you.” I stepped into the spray with her, hot water hitting my shoulders as I hauled her gently against me.
Her wet body slid against mine, every point of contact an overload. But I forced myself to slow down. To hold her instead of just grinding her into the wall like my dick was begging me to.
We stood there for a long minute, just breathing. Her cheek against my chest, my arms wrapped around her, the sound of the water a curtain between us and the rest of the world.
“I’ve got you,” I murmured into her hair. “Right here. I’ve got you.”
“I know,” she whispered, fingers tightening at my back.
After a while, I reached for the shampoo. “Turn around,” I said softly.
