I groan as I roll off the bed, my knees and thighs aching from being on top.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Wes asks, eyes sealed shut in contentment.
“I need to shower.”
“Mm,” he mumbles, reaching out to grab my arm without even opening his eyes. “Don’t leave. Just lay here with me for a few more minutes.”
I look down at him, my lips tugging up at the way he’s sprawled out like a starfish on my bed, condom still on, and a dreamy look on his facethat is all too gratifying to see. His features are relaxed, and I wonder idly if I look as dopily happy as he does.
“Come shower with me,” I offer, tugging his hand.
His eyes flash open and I laugh in response. “You’ve made me an offer I can’t refuse.” His feet hit the floor, and he grunts as he pushes up to stand.
I grab us both towels as Wes heads into the bathroom to get the shower started. The sound of scratching at the door prevents me from joining him under the warm water. I sigh and wrap the towel around me as I stalk to the door and crack it open.
Dixie is sitting on the porch, begging to be let inside with those big puppy-dog eyes of hers. “Really Dix? You’re just doing this because you know Wes is here. It’s not that cold out there.”
She just sneezes and looks at me, wagging her tail.
“Fine. But don’t get any ideas about this being a regular thing. I love you and all, but you’re supposed to be out there protecting the goats and horses.”
I step aside and watch her trot through the door like she owns the place.She heads straight to the leftovers on the picnic blanket, and I quickly snag the containers and put them on the kitchen counter to enjoy later. Dixie huffs out a disgruntled breath, annoyed that the food is now out of her reach.
The cold air I let in from outside sends a shiver down my spine, and I patter through the kitchen and down the hall to reach the warmth of the shower. Dixie’s paws click on the hardwood as she finds a spot in the living room and plops onto the floor with a heavy sigh, like she knows her time inside is limited.
When I slip into the bathroom, Wes is leaning over the small tub to adjust the shower temperature, his naked ass on full display. I admire the firmness of his thighs and the roundness of his glutes.
“How hot do you like it?” he asks, eyes flicking to mine over his shoulder.
My nipples are pebbled from the cold, and goosebumps are covering my entire body.
“Hotter than the pits of hell,” I say, tapping his right butt cheek to get him into the shower.
He climbs in, hissing as the scalding water sears into his skin. Instinctively, he arches out of the spray, and I follow him into the shower. The water cascades down my back and I close my eyes, reveling the sensation as the heat works the tension of the lingering chill from my body.
“Is your skin made of leather? How can you stand it?”
I crack an eye open to view him through the steam already accumulating. “Wes, never ask a woman if her skin is made of leather. She might think you’re telling her she looks old and wrinkled.”
He winces. “That’s not what I meant.”
My lips tip into a smile. “I know. I’m teasing.”
His body visibly relaxes. I decide to have pity on the poor man and turn the temperature of the water down a bit. He smirks and steps into me, placing a kiss on my nose before resting a hand on my hip and adjusting the temperature back to where it was.
“I’m sure I’ll get used to the water boiling the flesh from my bones as I wash off.”
I smile and run my fingers through my hair, wetting the strands. Wes’ thumb rubs circles into the flesh of my hip and when I turn around, he gently traces the lines of the tattoo between my shoulder blades. It's a whisper of earlier sensations. There's something even more intimateabout this moment, something that's lingering just beneath the surface. It feels good to be touched like this—not just with lust, but with something close to reverence, an ardency that makes my heart squeeze with a bittersweet sensation.
His lips find the curve of my neck, and I relish the abrasiveness of his beard as he nips at my skin lightly. I arch into him, my hand finding the nape of his neck. Somehow my body is already stirring again, hungry for more of him. “Don’t get me started in here, cowboy.”
His rumbling chuckle vibrates against my neck. “Why not?”
“Because I want my memories of tonight to be untainted by the awkwardness of shower sex.”
My statement pulls a loud laugh from him. Seeing him laugh is possibly my favorite thing. His eyes crinkle and that single dimple deepens in his left cheek while his features turn all soft and tender.
He kisses my shoulder one more time before pulling away reluctantly. “Alright, deal. No awkward shower sex.”
