I lift my hand and catch his chin between my fingers, tilting his face up just enough to kiss him again—slow, smiling, soft.
“Clingy. Possessive.Yours,” I murmur against his lips. “Get used to it.”
His hands curl over my shoulders, and he drags me closer. “No complaints here.”
“Good,” I whisper, brushing another kiss against his mouth, “because we’re going to be late for class, and if we shower together, we’re never gonna make it.”
His answering groan is almostfilthy. “We can shower together, I’ll keep my hands to myself.”
I snort. “It’s not you I’m worried about.”
“Come on, Brooks, we can be quick.”
Against my better judgment, I follow him into the small bathroom. I turn on the water, setting it to warm, and then push my boxers down to the floor. When I look over, Todd’s watching me like I’ve just scored the game-winning goal in overtime. The tent in his pajama pants telling me everything I need to know.
“Shower, Shaw,” I say, voice low. “Not a sex marathon.”
“You’re the one who keeps looking at me like I’m dessert.”
I gesture toward the shower, steam billowing behind the curtain. “Get in before I change my mind.”
He strips fast but not without touches—his fingers brushing over my stomach as he stands back up, mine dragging along his spine. It’s all quick and lazy, but under the surface, it hums. Electric. Stupidly charged for 9 a.m.
The second we’re under the hot spray, I press him against the tile. Just for a second. Just to kiss him.
Water pours over us, heat soaking into my skin, but it’s nothing compared to the heat of his mouth under mine. His hands splay across my back, his body molding into mine, and I lose the thread of time. Of reason. Of why wecan’tjust stay here all damn day.
He breaks the kiss first, breathing hard. “You said—” He swallows. “You said not to start something?—”
I kiss the corner of his mouth, then his jaw, then under his ear, and whisper, “This ismenot starting. You’ll know when I start.”
His fingers twitch against my waist like he’s fighting the urge to drag me down with him. “You’re killing me.”
“Mutual,” I murmur, pressing one last slow, sensual kiss to his lips.
Then I force myself to pull back.
He groans in protest, forehead resting against mine, breath shaky. “That was evil.”
“I’m aware.”
We finish fast—body-wash, shampoo, rinse—no more touches, no more teasing. Except for the occasional accidental brush of his hip against mine that feelsverynot accidental.
By the time we’re out, dressed, and I’ve grabbed my backpack, I feel like a kettle ready to blow.
Todd ruffles his damp hair as I grab my keys from the counter. “You good?”
“Not even a little.”
He grins like I’m the most entertaining thing he’s ever seen. “Guess that makes two of us.”
I kiss him again—just because I can—and mutter against his lips, “You’re gonna be the death of me.”
“Yeah,” he says with a smug little shrug, “but what a way to go.”
EIGHTEEN
TODD
