Girlll. Tea time.
Nothing happened.
I lifted the sheets and saw I was wearing a t-shirt over my outfit from last night.
I’ll text you in a little.
I’m coming over to pick you up.
I need a shower and coffee first.
See you soon.
XXOX
I put my phone down and threw the comforter off, then padded over to the shower. I stripped out of my clothes and put them in a neat pile on the floor before stepping into the oversized standing man bath and twisted the knob in the center. I stood to the corner, so the cold water wouldn’t hit me while it warmed up. After a minute, the steam started fogging up the glass, so I stepped into the middle, where the water was pouring out of the rainfall shower head.
I did a complete circle and saw nine other jets, three on each wall. I ran my fingers over several buttons on the wall to find the one that looked like the jets. I had always seen them in movies, but never in real life and, of course, I had to try it out! I found one that looked like an upside down funnel which caused the lights to change in a rainbow colored pattern. I pushed another and the music started playing. I pushed a third, and the water started shooting at me from all sides, causing me to squeal in surprise.
The water was hitting all over my body, jets angled in certain positions from mid-back to… oh, hello there.
No! I would not get off in his shower.
That’s what my mind was saying, but my body was like a raging hormonal teenager who’d been waiting for days now to get off.
Herein lies the problem.
I stood there for a moment, letting the water massage me and… my eyes were rolling into the back of my head. Oh my God. Why have I never done this before? I stepped closer to my new favorite jet, and a moan escaped my lips. I pressed my hand on the wall, ignoring the buttons, as the pressure was building. Another moan escaped. “Fuck.”
I adjusted my body again, my legs growing weak as my body climbed, ached, needed. I stepped closer and a sound deep inside of me echoed out. My moans were coming closer and closer, my stomach tightening and then… ahhhh. The angels were singing. My legs gave out, and I fell to the floor, while the same jet that just got me off pelted me in the back of the head. But I didn’t care.
The door burst open and Callum was standing there, eyes on fire, looking completely feral. He ran into the room, shutting the door, grabbing a towel and tossing it at me before racing into the shower fully clothed. He pressed a button on the control panel in the corner above my head and in an instant, the water, lights, and sound were shut off.
I stared at him in disbelief. “What are you doing?” I shot out when I finally regained control of my tongue.
He looked down at me, his white shirt now transparent and clinging to his body like shrink wrap. He had muscles, like a lot of them. Fully defined, touch them, feel them, lick them, muscles that I wanted to run my hands over. Holy fuck, he was gorgeous and a bit of a badass, it seemed. His chest and arms were covered with tattoos that were now showing through his shirt.
His eyes locked with mine, but was interrupted by the bulge that was growing in his pants. My bottom lip scraped between my teeth as I contemplated how it would look if I sucked him off in the shower. I still didn’t know what happened last night and for all I knew we fucked, and I didn’t remember it, and looking at his body this morning… that would be a goddamned tragedy.
“What are you doing?” He snapped.
It was like a needle popped my vagina balloon, but it was fighting for anything to cover the hole to stop the air from escaping.Horn dog.
“What are you doing?” I retorted.
He stood up, taking his shirt off. Not in the overly sexy way you would hope, but the irritated it’s clinging to me and I need to be free of these constraints kind of way.
“You…” he threw his shirt down. “Put a towel on.”
“I put a towel on?” I was completely confused, lost in his body.
“No.” He snapped. “Put the towel on.” He pointed to the one that I was holding in my lap, realizing my breast were on full display.
“Shit.” I pulled the towel up.
“You…” he shook his head.
“What’s so hard?” I added, “to say?” When a ‘that’s what she said’ popped into my head, looking at the seam of his pants. I wanted to put my hands around that happy stick.
