That pretty flush reappears on her cheeks. “You don’t strike me as a girlfriend kind of guy.”
“I’m not, but I’m also a really fucking long way from an inexperienced virgin.”
She snorts, despite herself.
I have a momentary thought that I shouldn’t look at her breasts.
For a second, I try to honor it.
But they’re right there, in front of my fucking face as I drop to my knees again to remove her panties. Her breasts are soft. A lot of the club girls and strippers have implants that keep ‘em high and round. They’re hot, not gonna lie. But Maren’s natural tits are so much prettier. They’re heavy, less round, with dark nipples.
The temptation to suck one into my mouth makes my cock ache.
If I’d stayed in the clubhouse, I’d be fucking one of the girls right now.
This is better.
The thought comes unbidden. But I’m starting to think that any time with Maren is better than fucking some girl I don’t really care about just because my pipes need emptying.
If I’m not gonna freak Maren out, I need to get my cock under control, so I don’t even look at her at all as I pull her panties down some of the softest skin I’ve ever touched. And I certainly don’t scrunch them in my palm and press my nose to them, just to inhale the scent of her.
I try to think about where the water flow goes from the drain in here. And whether the boys are okay at the clubhouse. And whether I’m gonna be able to ride out of here soon, becausestaying the night seems like a recipe for good intentions and primal need to collide in a way I’ll never recover from.
“Get in and get rinsed,” I say gruffly as I remove my heavy rings and place them on the sink.
I turn my back to the shower so I can’t see that water sluice down her body. I focus on the wall and wonder what you’d need to prime the concrete with before you could paint it. I unzip my jeans and remove the rest of my clothes before gathering up everything we wore and dropping it all outside the bathroom door so it doesn’t get any wetter than it already is.
Then, I turn around, knowing I’m gonna have to face Maren’s naked body at some point if I’m going to help her.
10
MAREN
For a second, Knox just stands in the doorway of the shower, looking at me like I’m an unexploded bomb he has to defuse.
The bathroom is small. Bare concrete walls and a metal showerhead bolted to the ceiling. When the water hits the floor, it echoes around the room.
In here, it’s impossible to hear the storm outside, but equally impossible to miss the one raging in here.
Knox finally moves and steps under the spray as if he’s stepping into a fight he knows he’s going to lose. And for all my words of modesty, of keeping distance, I want him to lose his battle so badly.
His hair darkens and flattens against his forehead as I take in the masterpiece of his body. Water slicks down his broad shoulders and his chest, which is covered in a brush of hair painted with the occasional gray.
Hard muscle, old scars, and colorful ink cover him.
When he steps back and opens his eyes, he sees me watching, and it’s a fight to keep my arms by my side, to not cover my body from eyes I know shouldn’t be seeing it. For a moment, neitherof us says anything, until, finally, Knox reaches toward the three dispensers. “This one soap?” he asks.
I nod.
He pumps some into his hand. “This is going to sting, but it’s all we’ve got.”
His voice has that rough, practical tone, the one that fills me with confidence that, regardless of the situation, he would always be able to utterly and ruthlessly take care of me.
“Just get it over with.” I close my eyes as he washes the wound in my hairline with the gentlest of touches.
Itdoessting.
Badly.
