I couldn’t.I can’t. The horror. The shame!
“What the hell are you doing in here!?” Embarrassment painted my cheeks. I wished I could curl into a ball and die. With trembling arms, I tried my best to hide my decency. Slapping one arm across my chest, I positioned a hand between my legs, exceedingly careful not to touch my throbbing pussy.
So close!
I was so close to coming.
So close, in fact, I wanted to scream.
One more stroke and I would’ve found peace. Now I was even worse—vibrating with tightly strung desire, fogging my every thought.
The showerhead continued to hiss and spurt by my feet, slipping me further into disgraced hell.
This can’t be happening. Please don’t let this be happening.
Jethro leaned against the doorjamb, his arms crossed, and a smile on his lips. “Don’t stop on my account.” He waved at my flushed skin. “By all means, finish. I can wait.”
My daydream interlinked with reality and all I could think about was pulling Jethro fully clothed into the shower and impaling myself on his cock. I wanted him so damn bad. I wanted to be ridden, taken filthy and wrong.
My head throbbed as mental images of slippery bodies granting pleasure invaded my normally rational mind.
Jethro laughed quietly. “You look in pain, Ms. Weaver.” He lowered his head so he watched me beneath hooded eyes. “Do you need help?”
I almost moaned at the thought of him filling me, fucking me. “I—”Yes, I need help. Get in here and take me. Fix me so I can get over my horrible infatuation with you.
I shook my head.
Dammit, Nila. Get a grip!
Jethro’s jaw tightened; joviality disappeared, replaced with thick, thick lust.
My nipples turned from pebbles to diamonds, so hard I swear they would slice anything that touched them. I couldn’t move as he continued to drink me in. With every second that ticked past, the air changed until the steam around us shimmered with barely veiled hunger.
Jethro’s gaze drifted down my front. “Fuck,” he breathed.
I almost puddled to the floor. I didn’t trust myself to say anything—not one word. I’d betray everything I’d promised myself over the past few days. I would crash to my knees and beg him to put me out of my misery.
I would never be able to live with myself again.
We stayed silent, devouring each other but making no move to deal with what we wanted. My eyes fell to his trousers and his straining erection. It was so proud, so big.
Wait. He’s wearing jodhpurs.
I blinked, trying to make sense in my sex-hazed brain. “Are—are you going somewhere?”
My voice snapped him out of whatever fantasy he’d been having. My scalp tickled as his golden eyes radiated intensity. “Yes. You’re coming, too.”
My eyes snapped closed.
Coming.
Yes, I’d love to.
He laughed softly. “Perhaps the wrong choice of words.” In a rustle of clothing, he pushed off from the doorjamb. “Or the right ones, depending on how the next few minutes go.”
A full body clench tore a small pant from my lips.
My eyes flew wide as he grabbed a fluffy towel and stalked toward me.
