He slides the shower screen open as I shimmy my jeans and panties down my legs. He watches intently as I step out of them, shuck off my shirt and bra, and slip into the shower. The water is scalding hot, just the way I like it. I don’t think I have ever met someone who likes the water as hot as I do. I move past him and step directly under the spray, washing off the day. Clay is behind me and I can feel him staring as I reach for the shampoo, but he takes it out of my hand and gives me a different bottle.
“That one was conditioner,” he says.
“Thanks. Maybe you should put labels on them, since they are both just black.”
“That one has a white lid.”
I wash my hair, and when I tip my head back to rinse it out, his hands lock onto my hips. I glance at him over my shoulder.
“If you keep looking at me like that...”
“Like what?”
He smiles at me and spins me around to face him. “Like you want to fuck me.”
“Maybe I do.”
He walks me backward until I’m pressed against the tiles, his body crowding mine, then he leans in and drags his mouth from my jaw to my throat. I tip my head back to give him better access.
“You drive me insane,” he says against my neck.
“Good, it’s my favorite pastime,” I murmur.
He smiles, and his hands roam over my body. I like this side of him when he gets out of his head. I run my hands over his shoulders and down his arms, feeling every muscle. Clay releases a rough sound from his throat as I drag my nails up his back, then he lifts my leg and I wrap it around him. His forehead drops to mine, and I close my eyes.
“Fuck, Clay, I need you.”
“Look at me,” he demands, and I open my eyes to him staring straight into my soul.
I want him to see all of me, so I keep my eyes locked on his, and he holds my gaze as he lines up his cock and pushes inside me.
He doesn’t move straight away, just stays buried deep. “You fit me so fucking well,” he says againstmy lips, then rolls his hips. I lose my breath, needing this more than he knows. I never expected to feel safe with him, but I do.
“And I don’t know what the fuck to do with that,” he finishes.
I pull back just enough to see his face, and he doesn’t put his walls back up. He is giving me as much of himself as I am giving him.
“Then stop trying to figure it out and fuck me.”
He lifts me in his arms and presses my back against the tiles as he expertly works my body. He doesn’t rush or get rough; it’s just us right here in this moment with each other. And when I inevitably come apart, it’s with his name on my lips, and with his eyes still fastened on me. I know his claim of “mine” rings true, and I have a feeling one does not easily walk away from this man. I’m his, and I think I’m okay with that fact.
He follows not long after, his face pressed to my neck, and one hand braced against the wall above my head, murmuring my name quietly against my skin.
Neither of us move for a moment.
Then his hand slides down from the wall and presses flat against my ribs, and I stay where I am with my back against the tiles.
“Still tired?”
“Shut up and don’t ruin the moment.”
He tilts his head and kisses me before helping to steady me on my feet. Then, once he conditions my hair and washes my body, we both get out.
I’m grateful I could pack an overnight bag this time, but when I pull out my pajamas, he silently throws me one of his shirts. I pull it over my head, and the smirk on his face when I turn around has me instinctively wanting to rip it off and tell him he is a smug bastard. But when I see the look in his eyes, I climb into his bed without saying a word.
Clay gets into the bed naked, pulling the sheet over his body as I roll toward him. I was tired before, but now I feel like I could stay awake until the sun rises.
“I have decided that if you plan to claim me, I should know more about you.”