Why is that so hot?
“You’re soaking wet. Just shower in here. We’ve already seen each other naked. It’s no big deal,” I tell him, my tone calm despite the rapid beating of my heart.
I’m playing with fire, but I don’t think I can stop.
“If you’re okay with it, sure. Saves me from walking through the hallway dripping wet.” He smirks as he unbuttons his jeans, pulling them and his briefs down and off his legs as I just stare at his cock. No longer hard and it still looks massive.
God, I miss it.
“Stop staring at my cock before we get into any more trouble,” Quentin says, reading my mind.
“It is a beauty,” I tell him as I stand and join him under the water. “I need a shower too.”
I go to reach for my shampoo when Quentin takes it first.
“Uhh, ladies first?”
“Turn around,” he orders, and I comply with ease, oddly enough.
I feel the cool dollop of shampoo in my hair, followed by his large hands massaging the shampoo into it.
“You don’t need to—”
“I want to.”
I don’t respond because I can’t. Between the orgasm and his fingers in my hair, my body is in the most relaxed state in years.
It’s quiet as he shampoos my hair, then rinses and does the same with the conditioner. It should feel weird, being open and vulnerable in front of each other when we’re not romantically involved, but I don’t feel an ounce of shyness.
He hums contentedly as he rinses the conditioner, and once he’s finished, I turn to face him.
“Your turn, but you need to sit on the bench because you’re too tall.”
“It’s fine. I can wash my own hair,” he protests.
“And so could I, but it’s nice to let people take care of you sometimes, and you deserve that favor returned.”
He tongues his cheek as he stares down at me, giving his head a slight shake as he brushes past me to sit on the bench.
I grab the shampoo, squeeze it into my palms, and work it into a lather. Once my hands are covered, I run them through his hair, massaging his scalp.
His eyes remain open, watching me the entire time. Even though my breasts are right near his face, he doesn’t stray.
“It’s nice, huh?” I say as I rinse the shampoo out.
He nods, seeming lost for words as his throat bobs. I continue on, working the conditioner into his hair as I massage his scalp again.
He hums again, just as relaxed as I am, and puts his hand on my belly.
I pause for a moment and he notices.
“Is this okay?”
“Of course.”
He leans forward and presses a kiss there, lingering for a beat before pulling away. As I rinse his conditioner out, his hands are roaming up down and across my stomach gently.
My heart hammers in my chest at the affection, at how much he already loves this baby.
