“You’re wound tighter than a country singer at the opera.”
“That doesn’t even make sense.”
“Look, you’re uptight. All the time, which is insane for a yoga teacher,” she told me frankly. “And I swear you’re a better yoga instructor since he started giving you orgasms.”
I gasped when she said that. “What was wrong with my yoga before?”
“Nothing, but you’re more chill out there now. More Zen, less drill sergeant.”
Ouch. “Well, maybe I’ll find someone else to give me orgasms.”
She raised a light brown eyebrow at me. “Yeah? How’s that been working out for you the past two and a half years?”
I hate that she was right but she was, and my body knew it. Sex is a glorious thing and because of some sick cosmic joke this hockey player had not only ended my drought, he was supplying earth-shattering ones every damn time. I could go back to supplying myself with orgasms but…just like making a sandwich, it’s always better when someone else does it for you.
I’ve been under the hot shower spray longer than I should be, considering Trey is waiting for me, but it feels glorious. My shower at home is hit-or-miss when it comes to pressure and hot water. This morning there’d been neither, and I didn’t want to risk that tonight. I’m feeling tense, despite having just taught a class, and I want the water to relax me. There are four private shower stalls against one of the walls, and normally I use one of those because I’m kind of a prude, to be honest. I don’t get the whole public nudity thing, even if it’s just in front of other women. But when I’m alone in the gym I always think ofPsycho’s shower scene, so I just use one of the showers in the large open room.
I’m tipping my head back, rinsing my hair one final time, when the voice echoes in the cavernous tiled room.
“Hey, gorgeous.”
I scream and grab my towel off the hook, jumping out of the spray of the water and almost slipping in the soap suds still sliding off me. My heart rate has jumped so quickly and so high that I feel faint. But then my eyes land on Seb.
He’s standing in the opening of the shower room, leaning against the wall. He’s wearing jeans and a black Henley with charcoal gray sleeves, the two buttons at his neck unbuttoned. His hair is tousled and the scar on his eyebrow is just a pink line now, no stitches.
I’m panting with fear even though there’s relief at seeing him and not some serial killer or rapist. His baby blue eyes are running up and down my body greedily so I hug the towel tighter, praying it’s covering all my essentials.
“You can’t be in here!” I hiss, even though I don’t want him to go anywhere.
“Trey’s gone,” Sebastian explains, trying to soothe me. “He wanted to get home to his wife, so I volunteered to make sure you got home safe and sound.”
I’m shivering a little now, because I’m standing soaking wet with only a small towel pressed to my front. “What did you tell him? ‘Don’t worry, Trey. I’ll go watch your sister shower and then take her home’?”
“What’s the big deal? I’ve seen you naked before. I like you naked,” he says, his voice dropping an octave. His eyes look like sapphires in the overhead fluorescent lights. “Do you want me to leave?”
“No.” The word comes out of my mouth before I can stop it.
“Do you want me to wash your back?” A slow, sexy smile spreads across his face.
“Yes.”
Again, it’s like I have no control over my mouth. Damn it! If it’s just going to verbalize every single thing I think, I’m going to be in trouble. Big trouble.
He smiles at that, and it’s like a blowtorch to my feeble willpower. No man has ever looked at me the way Sebastian Deveau does. I can’t even explain it—but the desire and genuine pleasure reflected in his eyes as he looks at me, not just now but every time, is exhilarating. He peels off his shirt and unbuttons his jeans, pulling something out of the back pocket before letting them drop to the tile floor. He holds up the foil packet. “Do you want me to do more than wash your back?”
“Yes.”Stupid mouth, could you at least try and play hard to get?!
He drops his underwear a second later, as he’s rolling the condom over his dick, I tell myself that maybe Audrey’s right. I do him a couple more times and gradually work him out of my system. Maybe I will stop thinking about him and stop feeling that warm happiness when he looks at me. Maybe I just need to overindulge. Like the time I was eleven and ate all my Halloween candy in one sitting and then got a stomach ache so fierce I didn’t want to eat chocolate for months afterward. That’s the theory I decide to believe as he kicks off his shoes and steps out of his pants. I drop my towel and walk back to the stream of water. He meets me under it, pushing his strong hands into my wet hair and attacking my mouth. Neither of us is playing the tough guy this time, and we both groan right into the kiss.
My heart is beating wildly again as we make out like crazy under the water. We might both drown, but it would be completely worth it. And hey, if I’m dead I don’t have to deal with the fact I’m going back on my own self-imposed rules. He pushes me so my back is up against the tile wall and leans right into me. His skin is wet and warm, and he feels so heavy and good against me. His dick is rock hard and pressed firmly against my belly.
His hands travel down my shoulders, down my sides, over my hips and around to my ass. “I’m going to lift you up. Hold on.”
I pant my response and wrap my arms around his neck. His hands slide down my ass. He curls his fingers toward the inside of my thighs and they graze my pussy, making me shudder. He smiles into my neck and I bite his shoulder.
Finally his hands reach the back of my thighs, and in one fluid, strong motion he lifts me off the ground. My ankles hook behind his lower back, and he pushes me harder into the wall. He pulls back just a little so we’re looking at each other and slowly lowers me onto his cock. He swears in French under his breath; I bite my lip and sigh heavily.
Why does he feel so good? Why do I want this, even though I know it’s not right for me? What the hell is wrong with me? The questions filter through my head at rapid speed, but I don’t attempt to figure out the answers. I don’t care right now. All I care about is that he’s here and we’re doing this again. And it’s perfect.Again.
