“You’ve done as much as I have,” I say instead. “And your hair will take longer to dry. We’ve got about fifteen minutes before we have to drive back. Just take it.”
She shakes her head. “Let’s share.”
“What?”
“The shower. You’re right. We don’t have time for each of us to take one. Let’s take one together.”
I gape at her. If this is a joke, it’s a cruel one.
Then she turns to face me, her eyes glowing with a look I recognize immediately—her impulsive look. It’s definitely not a joke. She has always been unnervingly sincere when she gets that light in her eyes.
“It’s not a big deal, it’s a large shower, and neither of us is shy. It’ll be like gym class, right?” She strips off her clothing as she walks away.
I watch as she steps out of her shorts and panties and undoes the clasp on her bra as she reaches the bathroom door.
“Well, are we doing this, or not?” She turns to face me. Completely nude. Her chest is rising rapidly, either from excitement about doing something sexual or taboo, I’m not sure, and I don’t have time to contemplate. “Time’s ticking.”
God damn it. I’m only human. I stumble and trip over my shorts as I hurry after her.
Sierra has turned on the shower and is waiting for it to heat up when I finally make it into the bathroom. She glances down at my erection. I can’t blame her; it’s hard to miss, bobbing up rudely toward her.
“Ignore it,” I say. “Involuntary erections, uh, happen.”
She laughs at that. “Sure, Logan.” She tests the water with her fingers. “Good enough,” she says and steps inside the tub.
I pull the shower curtain closed behind us.
I didn’t consider how small a space this would be. We are inches apart with nowhere to go, my cock jutting out and taking up more space than it should.
It becomes a complicated, awkward dance—moving out ofthe flow of water to make room for her, and then back so I can rinse off. Each time, I accidentally graze her hip with the tip of my cock. I have to smother a moan and instead bark out a gruff, “Sorry,” until the anticipation of it happening again becomes so unbearable that I grab her slick, warm shoulders and maneuver her around me.
Every sound is sharp: the rush of the water, the clink of a shampoo bottle, the soft thud of her footstep on the ceramic tub. I dunk my head into the flow over and over again every time I’m tempted to stare. She has the most perfect body. High, perky breasts, slim waist, rounded hips, muscular thighs. I know she spends a lot of time climbing and working out, and boy, does it show when she’s unclothed.
She must be one of those people who feels like they need to boil their skin to become clean. The heat, steam, and the perfume of her shampoo are so thick that it’s making me dizzy. At one point, she turns away from me and bends over to scrub her legs, her beautiful heart-shaped ass inches away. I sway dangerously as the heat and blood loss to my head take their toll.
“I just need to rinse out the conditioner, and then I’m done,” she says.
Her eyelashes are thick with water, her eyes big and moist, and outlined by water droplets scattered across her skin. I freeze as she moves forward, once again grazing my stupid, begging cock by accident with her hip. Water sluices down over her head and down her back, trim waist, and ass. Her hair is like a beautiful, smooth river down her back, and I itch to touch its streaming locks.
Then the torture is over. She hops out and quickly checks her phone. “Hey, that actually worked out!” she says with farmore excitement than the situation warrants. I recognize the high-pitched, slightly slurred, post-adrenaline voice instantly. “We’ve got eight minutes. I think we’ll make it!” Her breasts bob when she lifts her arms to squeeze the moisture out of her hair.
“Yeah,” I manage. “We’ll make it. Your dress and shoes are in the bag by the couch.”
I fling a towel around me and hurry to my room. The door barely shuts before I take myself in hand. Three jerks later, and I spend all over my hand with a low, pathetic moan.
“Logan!”
“Yeah, I’m coming!”Literally.
I fling on my black slacks and button-up shirt, socks and dress shoes in hand.
Sierra looks stunning in the simple, black sheath dress, heels in one hand and a makeup bag in the other. Her eyes are still a little too bright. “Hey, these fit! Let’s boogie!”
On the drive back, I force myself to look at the road, my mind spinning.
The haze of desire has faded, and now I feel confused.
It’s a weird twist on our previous relationship dynamic, and I don’t know how to read it. Sierra has always been impulsive, and I’m more than familiar with the look she gets when she’s about to suggest something outrageous.
