So much for my grand plan of smearing sour cream and ketchup on the block of cheese and swallowing it down with an olive and cracker chaser.
“Life is a cruel mistress.”
I flip through the Netflix menu like something new will suddenly appear. I pick a Nate Bargatze standup routine. After polishing off a sleeve of cookies, I lean my head against the cushion, stretch my arms overhead, and beam toward the ceiling. “Fucking cookies are the best,” I tell the ghosts.
From this position, I get a whiff of my armpits. “Oof!Mama Mia.Maybe it wasn’t the sour cream after all.”
I’m ripe from the hours we spent birding. I need to remove this odor from my person. It’s killing my buzz.
Am I going to undress and use Reed’s shower? A place where he has also been naked?
Yes. Yes, I am.
I’ll hurry through it so I’m not naked when he returns.
Five minutes later, I’ve already moved on from shampoo to conditioner. I’m so focused on this shower, you wouldn’t believe it. Like I’ve been showering all my life.
Confession time. I don’t know if it was five or thirty-five minutes. Time is funny in this altered state. Let’s just call it ten and leave it at that. Cool?
While the conditioner soaks into my tresses, I squeeze body gel into my hand and work up a lather.Oh, juicy grapefruit in the morning.This stuff smells like Reed. Is this Heaven?
“No, it’s Iowa.”
I snort-giggle, then unabashedly rub Reed’s gel all over my body, inhaling his familiar scent into my lungs with vigor.
Hands roaming my slippery flesh, I hum to mystery music.
When my palms graze my sudsy nipples, I’m blasted with a potent wave of arousal that makes my thighs slam together. Involuntarily, my hips rock back and forth, blindly searching for friction to ease the burgeoning ache.
Apparently, I’m at the state of highness when you need to grind air, which I didn’t know was a thing.
Perhaps it’s because I’m naked in Reed’s nakey-nakey place with his scent surrounding me in the warm, misty air.
Regardless of what’s causing this sudden horniness outbreak, it must be sated.Now.
“Avert your eyes, Casper.”
One hand speeds to my breast to pluck my nipple. The other makes a beeline to my needy clit. I don’t waste time with slow circles or light caresses. Whatever magic is in this shower hasprimed me for instantaneous release. I go straight to hard and fast rubs. Back and forth, up and down, side to side. I work my clit like it’s my job, and I’m a fantastic employee, destined to take over the company one day.
“Oh, yes, yes,yesss,” I ramble in ecstasy, unable to modulate my volume. The echo of my panting breaths and whimpers reverberates off the shower walls, which both embarrasses me and heightens my arousal.
I’veneverbeen so out of control and desperate for orgasm.
My hips thrash wildly, making it hard for my fingertips to keep flicking my clit in the right spot. I force the bucking to slow enough for me to lock in on the swollen bundle of nerves.
Yes, there it is.
Like I’m possessed, I grind my fingers over my clit, hurdling toward the precipice. “So good.So good.”
A coil of pleasure explodes deep in my core, firing tendrils of heat in all directions. Gibberish flies from my mouth on pillows of airy moans as I convulse and spasm into sweet oblivion.
Gradually, the aftershocks ebb, and my breathing returns to normal.Dang, that was powerful.
And unexpected.
If I were on speaking terms with Kenzie, I would ask her if it’s normal to go from zero to explosively needy after one gummy.
Since she’s as untrustworthy as farting in white pants while you’ve got the stomach flu, I’ll consult the bigGonce I get dried, dressed, and locate my phone.
