I playfully shake my head, because knowing the attraction I have for Lukas, a shoulder injury might not stop us. Reaching for my hair, I gather it up in a messy bun, securing it with an elastic tie. Reaching for the detachable shower head, I let the spray run over my palm before adjusting the temperature.
I gesture for Lukas to tilt his head back, letting the warm water run over his hair and down his shoulders, falling intothick rivulets when it meets his hard muscle. Even with his arm swollen and bruised, the limb held safely at his side, he still looks strong. Powerful. He holds his tall frame proudly with his muscular thighs spread wide, feet planted firmly on each side of mine. He winks at me briefly before closing his eyes, and I watch the water drip down his face, over his plump lips, and he visibly relaxes under the warmth..
“Always such a Casanova,” I tease, running my hands through his wet hair, making sure to really soak it. Putting the showerhead back, I lean forward, reaching for a bottle of shampoo, purposefully pressing my breasts to his face. “Maybe if you’re a good boy, I’ll make the shower worth it for you.”
A rough groan leaves his throat as his hand comes to rest on my thigh before it moves up to curl around my butt, squeezing a cheek. I lather the shampoo in my hands and bring them to his head. Raking my fingers through his hair, I make sure to massage his scalp, his neck, and Lukas groans, low and heady. “That feels so good, babe.” His eyes fall shut, but his hand stays on my hip, fingertips grazing up and down my shorts.
I work his hair into a lather, standing it up on top of his head like a foamy mohawk, chuckling to myself as I do. Ushering his head back so I can rinse the suds from his hair, I lean down, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “I was scared half to death when Grayson called,” I whisper, my lips brushing his with my words. “I think I imagined every terrible scenario there could be when I heard his voice.”
Lukas opens his eyes, and he stays locked on me. Under the muffled water from the shower, I can see him work his throat in a swallow. “I’m sorry I didn’t call,” he admits. “You should have heard it from me. You should have been the first to know. I got all in my head about it, stubborn as usual.”
I nod at that, believing, accepting his words. I pull him to me, resting my chin on the top of his head, and he curls his armaround my waist, leaning his cheek against my chest. I hold him like that, letting him feel the steady breaths coming from my lungs, hoping it gives him some sort of peace.
“I’m worried it’s all over, Mags,” he finally says, the water masking the fear in his voice.
“It’s okay to be worried, but for now, this is just temporary,” I remind him. “Every great athlete has an injury in their career. As scary as it is, you can’t shut down like this. You can’t shut us all out.”
He turns his head to press a kiss to my chest. “Thank you, baby.” And then he tilts his face up, his gaze locked on mine as his hand lowers, palm sliding around my hip, twisting his wrist to run a finger over my center. Even though I swore nothing would happen, I can't help the whimper that escapes.
“Lukas…” I warn, but it’s half-hearted, really. He wasn’t lying when he said it’s been a month since we’ve been together.
“Take your clothes off, baby,” he murmurs, voice raspy. “Let me see what I've been missing.”
I pull my bottom lip between my teeth. I want to strip my clothes off, straddle him, and have him touch me with those hands that I know can work wonders, but he’s tired, I’m tired. We’re both emotional. What he needs is to eat, rest, and not strain himself. “Lukas,” I start. “I?—”
“I know,” he interrupts. “I know I need to be careful. Just … let me see you.”
His hand glides up my stomach, over my ribs, and his fingertips graze a nipple as he cups my breast.
With my gaze locked on his, I give in, curling my hands into the waistband of my shorts. Lukas watches with deft admiration as I slowly shimmy them down my legs. They fall to the floor with a wet thwack, and I kick them away. My hands immediately reach for my sports bra.
With a twist and a stretch, it’s pulled over my head, and I toss it to the corner of the shower with my shorts.
“Baby,” he rasps, wrapping his good arm around my waist to pull me to him. His nose and lips graze my skin as his tongue darts out to swirl around my nipple. I could stand here all day and never get sick of the feeling of his mouth on me, of the feeling of goosebumps springing up along my arms and chest. I have to force myself to reach for the washcloth. My fingers tremble as I squeeze out the body wash and work the cloth in a lather.
With slow swipes, I run the cloth over his non-injured shoulder, to his chest, and then to his back. I fall to my knees so I can clean his stomach and thighs, running it up one leg and then the other. Lukas doesn’t move, doesn’t blink, doesn’t so much as heave in a breath as he watches my every move. It isn’t until I wrap my bare fist around his hardening cock and start pumping my hand slowly that his eyes flutter shut. “Fuck me, Mags, that feels so fucking good.”
I tighten my grip, and when he tips his head back to rest on the shower wall, I lean forward, licking my way from his shaft all the way to the tip.
His head flicks forward and his hooded eyes drink in my naked body as he inhales sharply. “Fuuuuck,” he rasps, gently rocking his hips toward my mouth.
“Did you miss me, baby?” I coo, sliding my tongue around the tip, lapping up a drip of precum that’s already leaking from him.
“I miss you so fucking much. Every damn day I think about you.” His words are ragged, dark eyes boring down at me. He reaches a hand out to run his damp fingers through my hair, ushering me to move faster. “Fuck, I could come right now, you have no idea. My perfect girl, on her knees, always wanting to take care of me.”
My lips twitch with that, wanting to smile at how he’s putty in my hands. I run a hand up his stomach, feeling the rumble of his abs. Lukas has always been fit, strong, but week after week of working in the gym, training for baseball, has honed his already lean muscle. His thick thighs are spread in front of me like a king on his throne; his forearms rippling as he flexes his hand in my hair. “Are you going to come in my mouth, baby?” I whisper, my bottom lip brushing against the tip of his cock, and he grunts, abruptly pulling out.
“No, no, wait.”
I lean back on my knees, still looking up at him as the water streams down his body. “Not yet,” he whispers. “I want to touch you.”
I shake my head. “We can’t have sex, it’s too much?—”
“I didn’t say we were having sex,” he interrupts, a slight confidence returning to him, some of the color blooming in his cheeks.
He gestures to the lip in the shower next to where he’s sitting. “Lift your leg, rest your foot here. I want your pussy spread for me. I want a front row view as I watch you play with yourself.”
My mouth pops open on a heavy exhale and my core tightens. We’ve had plenty of sexy video chats in the years we’ve been apart. There’s something so erotic about it, almost more intimate than actual sex. When his words are in my ear, and in that gruff voice of his he’s telling me what to do, how fast to go, I come so hard every time.
