“I’m about to be,” I tell her.
20
LILA
Ethan’s warm and steady beside me on the bed, and I don’t want to move. But eventually, I do.
“Ethan.”
He rumbles into my skin. “Hm?”
“We need to shower,” I say, voice hoarse. “I’m not sleeping like this.”
He laughs ruefully. “You’re the one who couldn’t wait.”
“You’re the one who followed me to bed like you owned it.”
“I do.”
I glance back at him, and the look in his eyes tells me he means it.
Still, I untangle from him, slow and sore, feeling every place he touched. My legs are shaking when I stand, and he steadies me with one hand on my hip.
“You okay?”
“Yeah.” I smile, dizzy from everything we just did. “Come with me.”
I pad into the bathroom, turning on the water before I let myself think. The sound of it echoing in the tiled space helps clear the haze a little. He follows without a word, standing behind me as the steam starts to rise.
I step under the spray first, closing my eyes, letting the warmth wash over me. It runs down my chest, over my thighs, rinsing away the slickness, the sweat, the evidence of just how much I gave him.
He steps in a moment later, arms brushing mine. His eyes are on me—hungry still, but softer now. I take the soap in hand and lather it up slowly, working it into my palms until it’s thick and slippery.
He watches as I spread it over my breasts, fingers slow, massaging the suds into my skin. His gaze drops as I move lower, dragging the foam down my belly, between my thighs, washing the mess he made of me with slow, careful pressure.
“You’re trying to kill me,” he mutters.
I grin, flicking a glance up at him through wet lashes. “Just getting clean.”
He doesn’t look clean. He looks like he’s two seconds away from pinning me against the wall again.
I hand him the soap next. “Your turn.”
He raises a brow but lets me take over.
I lather his chest first—broad and hard, slick under my fingers. I drag my hands down his abs, then around his sides, watching the way his muscles tighten beneath the touch.
He’s still soft, relaxed, breathing steady.
I step closer.
My fingers trail lower, wrapping around him, lathering lazily.
He hardens instantly.
His jaw tenses. His breath catches. His eyes lock on mine like he’s daring me to keep going.
So I do.
