“Again, who was in that cabana?”
I swallowed. “You and me.”
“Who is in this shower right now?”
“Just us.”
“Exactly.” His hands settled at my waist, guiding me closer. “Stop worrying about what people gon’ think and come sit on my face. You can stress later.”
“Hash—"
“Nobody else’s opinions about what we decide to do matters. Not my family. Not yours. Not Simone. Not Marcus. Just me and you.”
My throat went tight. He made it sound so simple. “Hasheem . . .”
“Do you regret it?”
“No.”
“Did you enjoy it?”
I hesitated for a second, but I couldn’t deny the truth. “Yes.”
“Then that’s all that matters. I mean what I said when I was deep inside you. That wasn’t just sex for me. You my person, Harlowe,” he said. “Been that, and I think it’s time I stand on it.”
Before I could respond, I felt him move behind me. One hand stayed locked at my waist, holding my back against his chest. The other reached past me for the detachable showerhead. He adjusted the nozzle, testing the water with his thumb before he turned the water on my body. The water hit my collarbone first, then chest, then stomach. My breath hitched when it slid between my thighs and stayed there.
“What are you—” My voice trailed off as his hand angled to hit my clit. “Ooh, shit!” A moan broke out of me as my head fell back onto Hasheem’s shoulder. My legs tried to close on instinct, but his grip tightened at my waist, keeping them open.
“Don’t run from it,” he said quietly. “Don’t run from me. Your pleasure and your happiness are the only thing that matters right now.”
My breath hitched as the steam wrapped around us and the water beat against my pearl. Every hit sent pleasure shooting through my body.
“This feels…” I couldn’t even find the words to finish that sentence.
“Right,” he finished for me, shifting his wrist just enough to make my knees wobble. “Feels right. Been a long time coming.”
A helpless sound broke out of my throat. He wasn’t even touching me, and he was driving me crazy.
“There she goes,” he muttered, lips grazing the side of my neck. “Tell me what you want, Harlowe.”
“I . . . I don’t even know,” I cried, my fingers clawing at his forearm.
“Yes, you do.” His voice dropped even lower. “You been knew. Say it.”
The water kept tapping my clit in perfect little bursts, his hand guiding it. My brain tried to pull the emergency brake. This is messy, this is your best friend, this is too much, but my body was already gone.
“I want . . .” My chest was rising and falling fast as fuck. “I want real love. I want the storybook shit I’m always talking about online and pretending to have.”
He went still for half a second, just breathing with me, the water still hitting my spot sending me over the edge.
“Then that’s what you gon’ get,” he said just as the pressure built in my stomach and my thighs shook. I tried to squeezethem together again, but he slid his leg in between them and held me open. “Give it to me,” he whispered into my neck. “Look how your body is talking to me. You hear it?”
“Yes!” My head fell back on his shoulder as the orgasm crashed over me, sharp and blinding. My whole body jerked against his hold. I didn’t even know what I was saying at that point, but he stayed right there, arm banded around my middle, whispering against my skin while I shook.
“That’s it,” he coached. “Make a mess for me. I love watching that shit.”
“Oooh!” His words sank in as the aftershocks rippled through my body, leaving me loose and shaking in his arms with water still running down both our bodies. Hasheem reached over me and hung the showerhead back up. Then he scooped me up in one quick motion like I weighed nothing and stepped out of the shower. My arms flew around his neck on instinct. My legs tried to tighten, still shaking from the orgasm he’d just pulled out of me. I was pure jelly as he carried me out of the bathroom. He didn’t reach for a towel. Didn’t flip a light. Just walked us straight to the bed, kissing me like he’d been waiting his whole life to get away with it.
