“Clover?” He fumbled for the light switch, and dammit, he flipped it on. “Are you okay—shit.” His eyes were saucers. He spun around and whacked his nose against the door.
“Oh my God. Are you okay?” I ripped my hand out of my pants to check on him, but I stilled, just staring at my digits. Had he seen? Shame burned through me. No one was supposed to know, but I got busted in the act. How humiliating.
He covered his nose with a hand. “Your, uh, your…boobs…are out.”
Another gasp escaped me. I covered my breasts, but it was too late. He’d already seen them. Where did I put my shirt?
“I thought you were cold,” he murmured.
Grumpy that I didn’t get an orgasm and that I’d made things awkward between us, I gritted my teeth and located my top. “I wasn’t.”
“But you said?—”
“I was horny.” I flipped my shirt open and searched for the bottom hem. It was inside out, but, oh well.
“You were what?” He spun around, caught his gaze on my boobs, and pivoted back, knocking into the door again. “Fuck me.” He turned again but kept his eyes closed.
Where was the damn opening? I kept flipping the flimsy material around. “You’ve already seen my boobs, and we’re both adults.” Indignation coursed through me. I couldn’t handle myself, and I got Van hurt trying to help me. “I should’ve been able to control myself and not... Well, you know.”
He went still and opened his eyes, pinning me with his emerald gaze. “You were masturbating?”
“Trying and failing,” I muttered. “I don’t know, must be these hormones.”
He trailed his attention down my body to my bare breasts. “Fuck, Clover.”
“I feel stupid.” My pajama top hung limp in my hands.
He jumped his stare up to meet mine. His nose was red where the edge of the door caught him, and his cheeks were still flushed from the rush, but his eyes were smoldering. “Why?”
“I should’ve controlled myself.” My conviction was weak against the intensity coming from him.
“Do you know how many times I’ve jacked off in the shower?”
My breath hitched, and his attention returned to my breasts, then dropped lower to where I’d had my hand shoved down my pants. “How did you do it?”
“Not well since I almost fell over.” My roller coaster of emotions didn’t need to take me down even more notches in front of Van’s eyes.
“Show me,” he said gutturally.
“What?”
“Show me how you were doing it.”
This was when I should’ve tumbled sideways. Shock passed swiftly, leaving behind a sizzling desire to do what he told me to. I flattened my hand on my belly, and he leaned forward, anticipation tensing his large frame. His jaw was tight, and energy rippled over him, leaping between us in sharp jolts. This time, when my fingertip touched my clit, I let the moan out, long and needy.
“Fuck.” He caged me in with his arms, his hands on the edge of the counter. “You sound so damn sweet.”
“Thank you?” I was so out of my element, but I wasn’t going to stop.
“You’re welcome.” The corners of his mouth tipped up before he glued his fervid stare to the spot where my hand disappeared into my pants. “How wet are you?”
“Soaked.”
His pupils crowded out his irises. “Your nipples are hard.”
“Yes,” I said on an exhale.
He caressed one with the palm of his hand.
