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Chapter Eighteen

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Emerson

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AFTER CRYING MYSELF to sleep in Colt’s arms last night, I’m a lot better this morning. More optimistic. More positive. Though I still don’t know how Mr. James can live next door to my parents or can bear to be in the same room as me knowing what he does.

If I thought I hated my parents before, it’s worse now. It’s a raw hatred, so full of anger and disgust that I never want to see them again. They can literally burn in hell for all I care. I’ll even light the match.

Rolling out of bed, I half expect Colt to still be asleep after spending half the night comforting me—but he’s not here so he must have gone for a run. I grab my toothbrush and a change of clothes, and tip toe over to the bathroom for a shower.

The water is hot and soothes my tense muscles as I stand under the steady stream for too long. My eyes are closed and I’m lost in thought, so I don’t hear the bathroom door open or the shower either, until it’s too late.

Snapping my eyes open, I scream, and Colt screams before his hand comes up and covers my mouth. He stares at me with wide eyes as his other hand slides around my back, catching me when I slip from shock.

My heart is thundering in my chest and I can’t breathe, partly because Colt is blocking my mouth, partly because he scared the life out of me, and partly because I’m naked and wet and so is he.

“Sorry,” he breathes, dropping his hand from my mouth. “I didn’t realize you were in here.”

I arch an eyebrow. “The sound of running water didn’t give it away?”

Colt stares at me as though he can’t hear me and that’s when I look at his ears. Dammit. He can’t. I reach up and pull the tiny earbuds out.

Noise canceling headphones. They blocked the sound of the water.

He straightens up and smiles. His lips pulling into a wide grin. “Hey, I can hear again.”

I wriggle out of his hold and open the shower door. Leaning out, I drop the earbuds on the bathroom counter so they don’t get any more wet than they already are. Colt’s arms slide around my waist again and he pulls me back under the warmth of the water.

“What are you doing?” he asks.

“I was having a shower until you interrupted.” I shove his hands off. “Mind leaving until I’m finished?”

Colt steps back and lowers his head. “Yeah, I should...” He points over his shoulder, indicating he should leave me alone, but he pauses and swallows.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

His eyes lift to mine and his voice is rough. “You’re naked.” His eyes drag back down my body.

“That’s usually how a shower works,” I say, pushing his chest. My heart stops and my mouth falls open. I’m naked. He’s never seen me naked. Not fully. Only when I had a bath and was covered with bubbles.

Oh my god.

I’m naked in a shower with Colt.

My eyes fall from his face to the wide expanse of his chest where my hands are resting. I brush my thumb across his nipple absently. He’s naked, too.

He’s naked.

I’m naked.

We’re both naked. And wet.

Shit.

Willing myself to keep my eyes on his, I fail as my gaze drops lower, over his abs, his hips, that V that I kind of want to lick.

Whoa, where did that thought come from?

Right to his... His hand grips my hip and squeezes, fingers digging into my skin as his free hand comes up and cups my breast, rolling my nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

I’d roll my eyes in annoyance if it weren’t for two things. One, it feels fantastic. And two, I’m kind of fascinated by his dick. Words I never thought I’d think, but true nonetheless.

I’ve never seen one in real life before, except for that one time after Colt had his shower and came out sans towel. Now I’m not sure what to do. I should look away, but I can’t. It’s mesmerizing, watching as it grows. Swells and hardens until it stands upright.

I’ve kind of always imagined it would be like flicking a switch and it would go from hanging limp to standing to attention in the matter of a second. But it doesn’t. It’s a gradual process.

“You need to stop looking at me like that,” Colt groans, and I’m too nervous to respond.

My hands drop from Colt’s chest, skimming over his ribs and down his abs; I trace his hip bones and pause. Colt freezes as well. His breath catching in his throat as my hand hovers above him.

Lifting my eyes to his, I’m not sure what I’m hoping to see. Permission? A warning? Both? His eyes are dark, and he darts his tongue out to trace his bottom lip.

“Em?” he questions, his voice sounding like gravel.

“Can I—?” I stop.

Can I what? What am I going to ask him?

I stretch out a finger and lower it until I’m almost touching him.

“Yes.” Colt groans and thrusts his hips forward once until he’s pressed against my stomach. Hot and hard. My finger slides along his erection.

I study his face for a reaction, but he doesn’t give one. The only sign he feels anything is him squeezing my breast and pinching my nipple. I slide my finger back and gasp in surprise when Colt twitches.

“Did you do that?” I ask.

“What?”

“Make it twitch.”

Colt chuckles. “No. It has mind of its own. All the blood in my body is rushing straight there. It gets a little...twitchy.”

Interesting.

I stretch out a second finger and tentatively run it along his shaft.

Colt releases my hip and covers my hand with his, stretching each of my fingers out and wrapping them around him.

“You won’t hurt it,” he says as I try to pull my hand back. It’s almost as if he can read my thoughts.

“I don’t know what I’m doing.” He twitches again and I jerk my hand in surprise.

Colt hisses, and I think I’ve hurt him. “Do anything. Just don’t squeeze too tight or pull it too hard.”

My breath increases and so does my heart, but I don’t move my hand. The pressure is too much. What if I squeeze too hard or hurt him somehow? I don’t want to be responsible for breaking his dick. Again. If you believe him.

“Relax. It’s okay.” Colt guides my hand. Dragging it along his length, back and forth. He’s hard and soft at the same time. Hot, silky skin. The more my hand glides up and down, the more Colt’s breathing gets ragged.

He leans into me, forcing me back until I hit the shower wall. Leaning one arm against the shower wall above my head, he’s so tall, he towers over me. His other hand never leaves my breast. It’s soft and firm in its assault, and I arch into his hand.

I continue touching him, rubbing my thumb over his tip and trying not to smile when he tips his head back and moans. “Fuck, Em. Just like that,” he growls in my ear and thrusts into my hand again.

His body is tight and tense, and he’s panting. I can’t get enough of the small grunts and groans he makes. The sound does something to me. I clench my thighs together, suddenly needing some pressure there.

“Stop,” Colt grounds out through gritted teeth. “I’m going to come.”

I grin. My eyes drifting between us again, never lifting, all they can focus on is the way my fingers move, watching as I bring him to his release all over my stomach as Colt thumps the shower wall with his fist and moans in my ear.

Breathing hard, he slumps against me and chuckles. “I think you’ve ruined showers for me now, too.”

I laugh and push him off me. “It was okay?”

“Better than okay. Be sure to do that whenever you want.”