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At Any Price(54)

By:Brenna Aubrey


“Had,” he turned back to me, his face and voice utterly emotionless. “Had a sister. She’s dead.”

I sat back, the wind knocked out of me, shocked both by the news and his expressionless delivery of it. Before I could respond, he leaned forward, readying himself to get out. “Let’s go shower off and look at the stars from the top deck. And the view of the shoreline is great now that it’s dark.”

There was only one shower in the master bathroom and two of us. Adam grabbed two monogrammed terry bathrobes, handing one to me. “I’ll go shower in a guest bathroom.”

“You don’t have to,” I said in a shaky voice.

He froze and turned back to me.

“You could shower with me. I saw the place. It’s huge.”

His eyes lit up but I could tell he thought I was kidding. Likewise, the thought excited me, too. The image of spreading soap across his abs with my bare hands was making my heart pound a little harder.

“Emilia, if I shower with you we will never get up to the top deck.”

Instead of replying, I dropped my towel and then shucked off my wet swimsuit in two smooth, quick moves. Then I shot him a grin and backed into the bathroom. “You’re going to have to show me how this damn thing works anyway.”

A cold thrill thrummed in my throat as his hungry eyes traveled down my naked body. I felt daring, bold, empowered, desired.

By the time Adam took off his swim trunks, he was fully aroused. I tried not to look—much—but I have to admit that curiosity got the better of me. His body was beautiful, magnificent and—well, I tried not to let the size of him terrify me.

I backed into the hot spray. The shower had dual heads, one on each side, so we each got our own. And for the first few minutes, we stood on opposite sides of the shower, awkwardly cornering our own spray, warming up while cautiously watching the other.

I lathered my hair before offering the bottle to him. Once he reached for it, I poured shampoo into my own palm and then put it on top of his head, setting aside the bottle to lather his hair. He watched me with a longsuffering, tolerant expression, but his eyes were dark with desire. His slick, hot, naked body was only inches from mine and I shook with anticipation, with the blood pumping through my veins at five times its normal speed.

Moving closer, I swallowed in a tight throat. I stood on my tiptoes to reach the top of his head, and he steadied me by placing hands on my waist. Then he ducked his head for my attention. His hands, where they held, me touched me lightly at first, but as I continued to massage his scalp, his hold on me tightened, fingertips pressing into my flesh. Thrill danced across my skin. I wanted to press my body to his. But I remembered his warning, about not making it to the top deck. Did I want our first time to happen in here?

I pulled away and turned back to my side of the shower to rinse my hair, my eyes closed. But he came up close behind me.

He picked up the bottle of shower gel and poured it into his hand and I twisted to look back at him, ready to feast on the vision of this gorgeous man lathering his abs.

He said, “Stand still. I’ll wash your back.”

I took a deep breath and did as he told me. His warm hands slicked down from my shoulders, across my deltoids and trapezius muscles to the small of my back. Every inch that he touched sprang alive and I trembled. The soap allowed just the right amount of give and the sensation of his strong hands gliding over my skin set my insides aflame with impossible heat. Then he reached around and smoothed soap across my belly, my hips. His hands skirted my pubic region before slipping up to my breasts—and apparently he must have thought my breasts in extra need of washing because his hands lingered there for quite some time. My nipples were erect and sensitive under his touch, each stroke of his hands piercing my core with lancets of desire.

I was panting, leaning against him. His erection pressed into the small of my back, hot and hard. His head came down to take my ear in his mouth. Shower spray pelted us. “Emilia, if I wasn’t a gentleman, I’d pin you to that wall right now and fuck you.”

My breath hitched. “Who said you had to be a gentleman?” His mouth was on my neck now but I squirmed out of his arms, pouring some gel in my hands. “That mouth of yours proves that you are a dirty, dirty man…” I said suggestively. He laughed and turned. I started on his shoulders and back and his grew posture rigid. My hands glided over his perfectly defined muscles. My hands sank to his waist, then down to his hard butt.

I turned and filled up on gel again and moved to his front. His body felt exquisite under my hands. A quiet moan escape his mouth as he closed his eyes, savoring my touch. I bent my head to kiss him but stopped myself. Was I ready to start things here, despite what he’d just told me? I stepped away so he could rinse himself off.