At Any Price(95)

He pressed his mouth to mine and we kissed as the warm water coursed over us from the rain showerhead—like a tepid tropical downpour. I kissed the raindrops from his jaw and the small curl of a rumble rose in his chest.

“This is the fourth time I’ve showered with you and every single time I’ve wanted to pin you to the wall and fuck you,” he growled.

“And this time?” I said breathlessly.

He kissed me again, this time forcing my mouth open to accept his invading tongue. His hands went to my hips and he moved us to the corner of the shower. When he pulled his mouth away, my breath faltered.

“This time I’m going to finally do it,” he said in a hoarse voice.

He lifted me several inches off the ground and sandwiched my body between his and the cold, smooth tile of the shower. He kissed me again and nudged his knee between my legs, cueing me to open them for him. I locked them around his hips and he gasped against my mouth. “I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you,” he murmured.

My arms tightened around his neck as he maneuvered the lower halves of our bodies to line up properly. “Likewise,” I said.

He entered me in one swift push and I gasped. The fit was tight and things were still tender from the newness of this intimate contact. I braced my hands against his shoulders and with a groan, he began to move against me.

Our wet bodies slid together in sensual abandon as he drove himself in, again and again. His mouth pressed against my temple and he rocked his pelvis against mine, the pleasure scorching me.

“I don’t know how I kept my hands off you all this time,” he groaned against my hair without once missing a beat in his rhythm.

“Adam,” I whispered. “You feel so good inside me. Make me come.”

He pulled my right leg away from his waist so I could leverage myself, tip-toed on the floor. My left leg remained hooked around his hips. He drove into me with longer, fiercer strokes. “You’re so tight. So goddamn tight. You feel so good. Like you were made to fit only me.” He kissed me along my brow and the rise to climax threatened as he continued.

And with a few more fierce pushes, I was coming, gasping his name. But he didn’t stop, didn’t wait for me to catch my breath. His movements grew more urgent, more rushed until with a long growl, he climaxed, stiffening, his pelvis grinding against mine.

After several long, silent moments, his body went lax, his face buried into my neck. “Fuck,” he breathed, his fingers pressing into my hips. “That was incredible.”

His mouth found mine and we kissed, his arms latching around my waist, cinching me against him. I pulled my mouth away laughing. “I think we just wasted about fifty gallons of water.”

He gave me a lopsided grin. “It’s your fault for being so fucking irresistible.” He kissed me again—a dizzying caress of his lips on mine that made me want him again as ferociously as before. I pulled away, knowing that if this didn’t end now, we’d never get to dinner.

I took the brief time away from him to contemplate us in silence. Every time I was in his presence, that rushing force of nature tore at me, made me want to release my convictions and be blown away by him, whisked away into the unknown by gale force winds from the grounding bedrock to which I clung.

There were things I needed to do. A person I needed to become—that vision of myself in surgical scrubs, which had been so important to me for most of my youth. I was the one who was going to save others, save myself. I couldn’t get carried away by someone else’s will. My past failures notwithstanding—I closed my eyes and my fists in conviction—I had to hold on to that vision and not allow it to slip away.

On our last night together in St. Lucia, we ate at the Place, the resort restaurant that featured flavorful Caribbean-inspired cuisine. Adam dressed in a black suit and I wore the crème-colored gown from the night of Adam’s house party, feeling again like Cinderella about to dine with her handsome prince.

His eyes slipped over me appreciatively as we sat down. I shook my head, laughing. “You are unbelievable.”

He smiled. “What? I was about to tell you how gorgeous you are.”

“And how you can’t wait to get me out of this dress.”

“I was going to save that for a little later, but since you took the words out of my mouth…Let’s just say that dessert isn’t on the menu. The last time you wore that dress, I tore off your panties. I can’t be completely responsible for my actions later tonight.” He grinned wickedly.

“Unbelievable,” I repeated. “Making up for lost time.” And my eyes darted away. I tried not to think about the horrible letdown that would follow when we got off that plane in LA. Something tightened in my chest and—contrary to everything my head had been telling me, my heart began to wonder if I could bargain my way out of the decision to end things after tonight.