The air is thick with the scent of sweat, skin, and satisfaction. My hair is tangled from fingers and friction, clinging to my neck in damp waves. “I’m taking a shower.”
Sully follows, completely naked, not even pretending to hesitate. “Allow me.” He turns on the hot water and we step inside together. Warm streams cascade from the ceiling while the detachable showerhead rests on the wall, filling the space with steam as the heat sinks into our bodies.
I look at his shampoo; it’s the basic kind hotels offer, but squirting some in my hand it smells like lilacs and honey. As I lather my hair, Sully snags my wrists with each hand. “Let me wash you.”
He pumps some shampoo into his palm and focuses on each strand like he’s trying to make my hair shine. He has me lower my head back and gingerly runs his fingers through my hair until all the suds are gone.
He grabs the conditioner and his brow crinkles. “I never use this.”
“It’s for the ends.”
He smiles and lathers it between his hands before adding it to my hair.
“As that sits for a bit, let me wash your hair,” I say.
Sully lowers himself to his knees, allowing his head to be the same level as my chest. I lather his hair and create a mohawk on the center of his head. I bite my tongue, but he can feel my laughter with his hands planted on my hips.
“What did you do?” He reaches up and feels the spikes.
“I couldn’t resist.”
“You’re going to pay for that.” He stands and snags the showerhead from the wall. “Now be a good girl and place your foot here.” He points to the soap dish and turns the setting on the showerhead to a more singular and powerful water jet.
Oh, fuck.
My foot fits in the soap dish perfectly. He hooks his right arm around me to keep me steady as he nudges my thighs open wider with the back of the showerhead. When he turns it around, the water hits the perfect place on my clit and I bite his shoulder.
My legs weaken and he supports my weight as the water moves farther down and back up. He finally drops the showerhead, allowing it to smack hard into the wall and plunges three fingers inside me. “This belongs to me.”
“Yes…” I feel myself tighten around his fingers. As he moves in and out, the orgasm hits me like a train.
Sully hangs the showerhead back up and grabs a washcloth, adding some body wash, and washes me. He’s careful around my sensitive bits; a little too handsy on my breasts, but I won’t complain.
After we rinse off, he grabs us each a towel. I bury myself into the fluffy white cloth and pad to the bed. I’m too sleepy to get dressed; this towel dress will have to do.
Sully grabs a small remote from the nightstand beside him. He hits a button, and the window blinds close, erasing all light.
I drape a leg over his and use his torso as the perfect pillow, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. His fingers gently flow through my hair, making it easy to fall asleep in his embrace.
21
Thebedroomdoorbangsopen. I jump and burrow deeper into the bed as the curtains fly apart, pouring in blinding sunlight. I roll onto my side, but all I can make out in the bright white light is a dark figure surrounded by red dots.
“Sully? What’s going on?” I mumble, blinking through the haze of sleep and smudged dreams.
“What the fresh hell is this?” A female voice stabs through my eardrums and pierces my brain.
I sit up like a metal rod is shoved into my spine and grasp the sheet to my bare chest. “Who are you?” My heart plummets into my belly. Never taking my attention off the invader, I nudge Sully harder and shake his shoulder. He snores and mutters something before rolling out of my reach.
The woman in a pale blue blouse and black pencil skirt frowns at me before typing something on her phone. I narrow my eyes. I’ve seen herbefore. She looks like the annoyed woman waiting by the wall when Sully and the rest of the band were doing meet and greets after the show in LA.
She ignores me and walks over to Sully’s side of the bed, smacking his leg repeatedly. “Get up! You’re late!”
Sully grumbles and moves again. His arm searches for me. He grabs my wrist, tugging me back into his warm body.
“A woman is here,” I hiss, nudging his chest.
His eyes fly open. They’re wild and blue like a hurricane in the ocean. He leaps out of bed as if he drank a pot of death coffee and got tased in the ass. In a blur of motion, he grabs his boxers from the floor and shoves them on in a blink of an eye. If there was a race to get dressed, he’d place in the top three.
