~ Paige ~
I can’t.
I shouldn’t.
This wasn’t why I came.
Was it?
Reasons, excuses, relentless justifications race through my besieged head, bluntly ogling Colin and his flawless male physique claiming every step he gains away from me. Taut, sculpted muscles ripple with every shift, his impressive shoulders, back, buttocks, and legs lovingly molded with precise care.
And the bigheaded jerk knows it.
He disappears inside the bathroom, not even feigning modesty, leaving the door wide-open in invitation.
I’m sitting up before I know it, shamelessly trying to peek, but the room must be well-spaced because I can’t catch a glimpse of the mouthwatering naked man no matter how hard I try or how far I tilt.
The sound of cascading water splashing on hard surfaces fills my ears. My heart is galloping, tearing through pumping blood. I clutch at my chest, afraid it might leap right out for the bathroom. The air is heavy, either from the heat racing through me or the humidity slowly flowing out of the bathroom.
Colin with nothing but wet skin…
On a tormented groan, I scoot off the bed. He’s doing it on purpose, probably guessing the poor waitress hasn’t been laid in… I don’t even know how long. Years, for sure. Well, if he thinks I easily succumb to temptation just because he looks ridiculously tasty naked, then… then I don’t know what.
My mind is so scrambled, I can’t even think straight.
Lacking thought and wholly without intention, my feet carry me to the bathroom. Just a peep, I tell myself. He wants me to, is summoning me to look.
It would be rude of me not to look, and Mr. Morrison worked so hard to drill manners into me.
Yeah. That’s it.
A barrier of steam hails me. Measured, mighty splatters echo within the tiles, the beautifully papered walls. Through the surrounding mist, Colin is there, a tall, superbly built man inside a cocoon of glass. Jet streams of water beat down on him as he carelessly runs his soapy hands around his chest, the gesture practiced yet startlingly hypnotic. Eyes closed, his calm face is turned up to welcome the spray.
Starving for more of him, for all of him, my gaze lowers. His abdomen is ferociously cut, the harsh sinews strictly defined. My tongue trembles from wanting to lick all over them, test the crazy swells and texture.
Even as I watch, motionless with greed for him, a wide, masculine hand slips down, grazing over the stern-looking belly button. I can’t help it. My gaze is trained on that hand, on the long fingers leading me.
Down.
They wrap around his strong, very rigid length. Firmly, he gives it a sure once-over rub, thumb foraging over the wide tip.
My eyes shoot up to his face.
He’s stalking me, the same way I’ve been keenly watching him.
“Come here, Paige.”
His words– no, his command– pulsate within the walls of haze and mist.
“I am here.” It’s not real, this off-script scene emerging. If I lift a finger, he will evaporate.
With his free hand, he wipes at the foggy glass. “Not yet. In here, Paige, so you can do more than look.”
Yes, yes, I want that.
The stall is sizeable, with two sides made of glass and the tiles mosaic shades of blue. There’s no door, just an opening at one end where the potent sprays don’t reach.
Dark, dark eyes lock on me, sucking me in. My body is too tight, my legs too weak. A relentless throb beats at me from the inside out, taking over every objection, any rationality.
That throb, it needs to be filled.
Stepping back, he takes the few paces that bring him to the gap. A dripping arm punctures the moistness, pulling me in.
Damp air gushes down my throat at my gasp. The luxurious, designer ensemble I thought was so pretty is plastered against a firm, wet chest. His hands are on my hips, while mine lie on his deliciously hard biceps.
“I’m pretty sure this outfit should be dry cleaned, not shower washed,” I chide lightly. “What’s the point of nice clothes if you’re going to ru—”
His mouth takes over mine, his tongue well-versed in the mating dance. Big hands stake their undisputed claim on me, running up my sides to cup my breasts. There’s no bra underneath, simply because the shoulder-hugging, billowy top would require a strapless torture contraption that I loathe. A groan, mine and his, quivers between us, and I know he’s delighting in that decision.
Rough fingers knead at my softness, reshaping them beneath the dampened fabric, while his lips eat at me, confident and voracious.
Then he’s tearing away, gulping in a huge lungful, his gaze fiery, possessed as it stares down at me. Without warning, he’s easing me off. My mouth opens to protest, except he’s not pushing me away.
In a quick yank, the part elastic, part button collar gives way to pool at my feet. My breasts bound out, the fierce ache on the tips begging for him. Colin immediately latches on, coolness pressing on the back of my shoulders when it hits me that he’s turned us, my back against the dribbling glass.
“Colin.” A half moan, half plea. Fuck, he’s hungrily sucking on my breasts, one after the other, no doubt leaving marks all over my skin. And I don’t want him to stop. “Colin.”
My fingers dive into his hair, fisting it like my life depends on it. Water rains down my head, my shoulders as he arches me up with a hand at my back.
“You’re even more beautiful than I imagined,” he says, his mouth skidding to my neck.
The breathless revelation swims through my muddled brain. “You pictured me naked?”
His answer is to devour my mouth the way he consumed my breasts seconds before. Vaguely, I’m aware there’s tugging on my lower stomach, the drawstring sash of my pants slackening with each pull and pinch. Ruined silk skitters down my legs.
In the next second, he’s gone. My eyes shoot open to find him on his knees in front of me, going for the skimpy white panties.
Or rather, the skimpy transparent panties.
Colin makes a noise low in his throat, a wild animal eager to mate, his avid gaze riveted to the scandalous sight before him. “Fuck. Look at you.”
I glimpse down, but I’m pretty sure my perspective is different from Colin’s. “You can do more than look.”
A soft smile breaks the intense expression at his earlier words sassily tossed back at him. “Oh, I will. And because you’re such a smartass…”
He’s on his feet and hauling me against him, his hard length prodding against my panties as I wrap my legs around his hips. Before I can brace myself, water beats down on me from multiple sources as I’m swung around and plopped down on my ass on the wooden bench along the tiles.
I’m frantically blinking back the sudden wet onslaught, scooping back soaked hair. “I’m not sure this is the best place.” My voice ricochets back at me in our insulated world.
“Let me look at you.” He’s on his knees once more and propping my heels on the edge of the seat.
Fire suffuses me when I realize what he meant. I still have my panties on, such as they are. A finger gently tracks over my center, up and down, dragging a body-shivering pattern over the thin, clingy fabric. He can’t seem to look away from what he’s doing. Muscles tense in me, all over and every inch in between. I watch his tongue flick out, fleetingly licking his lips.
My body hums, inner muscles squeezing in need, in anticipation. I crave to hold on to something, but there’s nothing. Colin is too far away, completely mesmerized by his teasing ministrations.
“Colin.” His name trembles out of me. “I need you.”
Just like that, he stops, eyes so dark, he might swallow me whole. “Take them off.”
He doesn’t have to tell me what. There’s no grace or flair when I hastily lift my hips, pushing the panties off and kicking them aside. He also doesn’t have to tell me to resume my position. My feet return to the same spots, letting him have his fill.
Water rivers down between my legs, flooding the already saturated.
Tipping in, his palm cupping my mound, he says against my mouth, “What do you need?”
“Inside me,” I breathe onto him, into him.
A blunt, wet finger slides into me, rubbing at snug, unused tissues. The excruciating penetration has me moaning into his mouth, against his tongue as it brazenly mimics the motion of his thick finger, massaging the spot. Something is murmured into my mouth as I clinch around his finger in agonizing, dizzy pleasure. A male approval.
“Like this?”
My legs are shaking, toes curling over the wood, and he wants to carry a conversation? “Um,” is all I can manage.
His mouth lifts from mine. A reprieve because I can’t seem to suck in enough oxygen. My eyes are squeezed tight to savor the gratification, but my hands are tense in his hair. That’s how I know he’s lowering, his head dipping down heartbeats before his tongue flicks me right above his pumping finger. Over and over.
Guttural cries claw out of my throat.
I’m being tugged down, gently, delicately, shattered pieces gingerly being put back together. My knees slide over wet, hair-roughened skin, sporadic spasms refusing to quiet. A hand cups the back of my head.
“Paige. Look at me.”
Shudders rack me. The deep, coarse voice scraped raw, the warm drops splattering down, the thick, isolated atmosphere, rigid muscles beneath and around me, they mercilessly raid all my senses. My skin must be impossibly wrinkled from being in the shower for who knows how long.
“Open your eyes, Paige.”
I do, slowly, carefully. Onyx eyes glitter at me, darting over my features. I’m straddling him on the smooth tiles, my arms curled around his sturdy shoulders.
It’s a tickle at first, but soon my lips are stretching into what I would imagine is a goofy yet extremely satisfied smile. “Colin.”
Those hands that I now simply adore smooth back the hair that must be plastered to me. “Paige.”
“That was amazing.”
“We’re not done yet.”
The stupid smirk won’t leave me. “We’re not?”
He leans in, sipping at the droplets on my lips. “Not even close.”
I like the sound of that, but really, I would’ve figured that out by the hard, impatient length saluting me from the gap between my legs. Reaching down, I take him in hand, my slippery fingers not quite able to meet around his girth. “I wonder if you fit in my mouth.”
It jerks in my hand.
I didn’t mean to voice that out loud.
“Why don’t you find out?”
His voice was even harsher than before. I did that to him. Me, Paige Zine, college dropout and server extraordinaire.
With a smirk, I skim along his legs. As soon as I’m off, he’s widening them to accommodate me, bracketing me with his knees. I thought he might push up to his feet, but he only looks at me with brows raised in challenge. It’s an awkward position, but I don’t balk.
Sloping down while the shower taps my back, I slurp him in. He’s wide, stretching my mouth to impossible capacity, but the water helps. I haven’t done this in a long time, but the way he’s relaxing back, letting me have my way with him, I don’t think he’s complaining.
Soon his legs are shifting, giving me more room. At least I thought that was the case until he’s jerking his hips up and pushing into me, urging me to take more of him. I tongue the ridge, flicking it over the slick tip.
He groans, the boom a strained rumble heightening the acoustics.
“Paige. You need to stop.”
Hm, he doesn’t sound like he wants me to stop, but he’s pushing up while I automatically fall back. Reaching over, he switches off the water.
“What’s wrong?”
“Not here,” he says, helping me to my feet. “Bed.”
He hoists me up. Our skin meets with a squishing noise as I drape my legs over his lean waist. Gingerly, he carts me out of the stall, cautious not to slip and kill us both. He looks so warily focused on the serious task that I just have to skim my lips over his.
The skimming turns into devouring within nanoseconds.
My back thumps against a wall. There’s wild rummaging in the cabinet. The drawers. Random things clattering to the vanity, to the floor. Groans spill into my mouth. Colin lifts me higher, his hand moving frantically about beneath me.
He’s rolling on a condom.
Before I can even consider the ramifications of what we’re about to do, he’s lowering me onto him, sliding into my tightness that’s stubbornly resisting.
Feeling every hard, acute inch of him pushing and pinching his way in, my forehead drops to his bunched shoulder. It burns a little, but I won’t tell him, not when it’s such a delicious one.
Grunts and mutters sound above my head.
Fuck yes.
So good.
Paige. Fucking perfect.
He’s frantically thrusting into me now. My muscles tighten in response, milking him for all their worth.
I wanna move in here.
My teeth clamp on his shoulder as my entire body contracts into unruly quivers. A rough male shout roars through the room.