“I can unbutton it myself,” I say. “My fingers still work. In fact, they work really well.”
“I know.” He pops another button. His eyes track the progress he’s making, the skin he’s revealing.
“Aren’t you supposed to be a gentleman? Shouldn’t you be looking away?” I taunt.
“I’m not a gentleman. And I can’t unbutton your shirt when I’m looking away. But all I’m doing is getting you in the showerand then getting you in bed. I won’t take advantage of you, not tonight.” Another button goes.
“Well, what if I take advantage of you?” I ask. I move his hands and make quick work of the rest of the buttons. I spread my shirt, exposing my breasts to his view. It’s not just my body that’s laid bare. Everything is. I’m naked, without masks, tonight. All I want is to feel.
He grasps my shoulders, and I gasp at his touch.Finally.
Then he shifts me back into the warm spray. He’s shirtless but still in a pair of thin sleep shorts, and he’s uncaring that they’re even more drenched than they were before, if that’s possible.
I reach out and try to push them down, but he moves away. “I don’t have that much control. You almost died tonight. It’s not the right time to start this. You might not be thinking straight.”
I trail my hand across his chest. And down to his washboard stomach. “Oh, I’m not thinking straight, and itisbecause of the shock.”
“What do you mean?” he asks and captures my hand, lifting it to his mouth and kissing the palm. My heart turns over at the gentle gesture.
I wrap my hands around his neck and stand on tiptoes, my body lining up with his, water sluicing over us both. “It means that tonight, I’m very much alive, and I want to celebrate that fact. With you.”
He leans his forehead and touches mine. Then he shifts back enough to trail a finger from my wet lashes, across my cheekbone, down the curve of my cheek, to my chin, then back up to my mouth.
“Right now, you’re going to get warm. And then, since you love wearing men’s shirts so much, I’m going to wrap you in one of mine. I never want to see you in another man’s shirt again. Then I’m putting you in bed, and I’m going to hold you until youfall asleep. But I won’t sleep myself. Because I’ll be watching you and thanking God that you’re here.”
I open my mouth to say something—I don’t even know what. But he blocks my words with his finger again.
“And then, in the morning, after you’ve had a full night’s rest and I’m sure you’re not suffering from shock, if you still want to celebrate being alive with me, I’m going to fuck you every way I can and satisfy every single desire, every single whim we both want. Got that?”
My breath is lodged in my throat, so I nod dutifully.
Like a good girl.
But I’m only so good. When I get my power of speech back seconds later, I brush my hand over his very hard, very large dick that I feel through his wet shorts. I stand on tiptoes and breathe into his ear, “Well, I’m not in shock. And I’m not waiting. So if you don’t want to participate, you can watch.”
God,I love seeing Ryder get all worked up.
When I whispered in his ear just what I planned to do, he stepped back from me so fast he almost tripped over the shower bench.
“You’re going to make me lose it. I’m leaving now,” he says, sounding desperate.
I nod, biting my lip to keep from giggling, and then open the rest of my shirt and let it slide to the floor of the shower.
He whirls away and exits the bathroom. I let the warm water relax all my limbs, wincing at the sting of my cuts.
A minute later, he returns. He clears his throat, and I peek out of the shower. “A fresh towel and my shirt are on the counter,” he mumbles, eyes averted, before leaving again.
The bedroom is empty when I enter a few minutes later, so I stretch out in his bed, wearing his shirt, reveling in the crisp cotton, the smell of his detergent. For a minute, I feel like I’m back to my seventeenth birthday, sitting in the middle of Ryder’s bed. And a wave of doubt threatens to overcome me. Maybe this was a bad idea, I think. Maybe—
The door opens, and Ryder strolls in. And his gaze disintegrates my doubts. His eyes devour me. And I remind myself that I could have died tonight. I need to take every beautiful moment I’m gifted and make the most of it.
I should be cool. And sophisticated. But I can’t help my big, beaming smile. “I’m dressed now. Inyourshirt, as requested,” I say. “You like?” I can’t help asking, forever needy, always wanting reassurance.
He sits on the bed next to me and pushes my wet curls from my face. “I fucking love it.”
Then, as promised, he stretches out and pulls me to him so I’m nestled in the crook of his arm.
“Sleep,” he says.
