“I noticed.”
“Shower with me? This hotel has excellent water pressure. I tested it.” He pulled his shirt over his head. “Come on. I’ll make it worth your while.”
“That’s a big promise.”
“I’m very motivated.”
I was already stepping out of my jeans.
The shower was hot and perfect. Cole’s hands were hotter and more perfect. He washed my hair with hotel shampoo, his fingers massaging my scalp until I melted against him.
“You’re good.” I murmured.
“I’m good at lots of things.” His hands slid down my back, cupping my ass. “Want me to demonstrate?”
“Please.”
He spun me around, pressed me against the tile wall, and dropped to his knees.
“Cole…”
“Let me.” He looked up at me, water streaming down his face, his eyes dark with want. “Let me make you feel good.”
His mouth found me, and I stopped protesting.
He licked and sucked like it was his job, like he’d been thinking about it all night during the show, like making me come was the only thing that mattered.
I came twice before my legs gave out.
Cole caught me, turned off the water, and wrapped me in a towel.
“Bed,” he said.
“I can’t move.”
“Then I’ll carry you.”
He did. Again. Apparently carrying me was his new favorite hobby.
He laid me on the bed, dried me off with careful attention, his hands reverent.
“You’re staring again.”
“Can’t help it.” He traced the curve of my hip. “You’re art, Autumn. Every inch of you.”
“More lines.”
“It’s the truth.” He kissed every inch of me. “I could spend days just touching you. Learning you. I can’t get enough of you.”
“You have three days before you leave for Charlotte.”
His mouth paused against my skin. “I know.”
Reality crashed back in. Three days. Then he’d be gone.
“Hey.” He moved up my body, settling between my legs. “Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
