“Fuck.”
He strokes and glides exactly how I need it, my core tightening like a knot, made of desperation and a powerful, wild craving. “Oh,” I whimper, one hand flying to his hair because I have to hold on, have to keep him close. So I don’t shatter to pieces.
“So needy for my mouth, hmm?” He strokes some magical place inside me while the added friction from his mustache drives me insane.
“CJ,” I breathe. “Please.”
His low purr of appreciation vibrates through me. I rock intohim, urging him faster, my breaths sharp and fast. He alternates sucking my clit between his lips and stroking with his tongue, the pressure relentless and so incredibly good.
I close my eyes and give myself to the insatiable need coiling so tight inside me, until it snaps. Pleasure rocks through me, sweet and bright. I grip his hair as he rides each wave with me, like he’s not ready for this to end.
When the pleasure ebbs, I roll forward just as he lifts me by the waist and brings me close, the warm water enveloping us as he holds me tight. Still panting, I relax in his embrace, my arms draped over his shoulders and my face buried in his neck. His fast, firm heartbeat against my ribs grounds me in the best way. Reminds me that this isn’t a dream.
“I’m not ready for this night to end,” he says, caressing down my back.
He might as well be cradling my fragile heart in his hands. “Me neither.”
He kisses my temple, then carries me to the steps and out of the tub.
“Where are we going?” Not that I care right now.
“There’s a whole house here. Let’s explore, yeah?”
He wraps me in my towel then whips his around his waist. Now that we’re out of the water, I can clearly see the outline of another tattoo at his hip. It looks like a compass rose with script arcing around to his lower back, with something else—part of a mountain, maybe? That night at the Sweetwater, it must have been too dark, and his shirt hem would have covered most of it.
I can’t help reaching out to caress the design. “What are the words?”
“It’s a line from a poem.”
I could get drunk just looking at the perfection of him in this low light. His chest is muscular and broad, the lean, firm line of tendons forming a V that frames the silky trail of hair leading from his navel.Add in the tattoos and he looks like the bad boy I should steer clear of. But he’s not like that at all. He’s tender and soft in ways that are so unexpectedly beautiful it makes my heart ache inside my chest.
“Must be a special poem.”
His smile dims but his eyes shine like silver. “Happy to share it sometime.”
I reach for his hand and stroke over the rough rose. “Is this from the same one?”
He links his fingers with mine, then brings my knuckles to his lips, his beard tickling just enough to make me ache for him all over again. “Different.”
Maybe it’s the cold air finally getting to me, or maybe it’s the undeniable craving for his body against mine, but a ripple of goosebumps washes down my arms and back.
As if he’s noticed, he frowns. “Let’s get you warm. A hot shower sound good? We can rinse off the chemicals too.”
“That does sound good.” Especially the “we” part. I bite my lip as he leads me through the sliding glass door. It’s warmer in here, but not enough to keep another shiver from rattling down my spine.
We pause to gather our clothes, then continue down a bare hallway with hardwood floors, stopping to peek in the first room, but even in shadow, I can see it’s bare. We keep going, the floor cold beneath my bare feet, and peek into the second room. This one’s empty too with the flooring ripped up.
Finally in the third one, we find a small bathroom with a built-in tub shower the color of mustard, with matching countertops.
“Looks like he hasn’t started in here yet.” CJ gives the space a thoughtful scan. His teeth chatter, making me laugh.
“I hope he’s got hot water,” I say as he turns on the tap.
“Either way, I’ll get you warm.” His smile turns sultry as he takes my face in his hands and kisses me softly.
The contact makes me jolt, and I reach for his forearms. “Will you let me reciprocate?”
He shuffles me to the wall and kisses me again, his soft tongue parting my lips. His left hand glides down to my throat, so that my quickening pulse echoes against his palm. I blink, the image of us in the mirror twisting my desire into something powerful, intense.