I don't like the jealous, possessive urge that takes over me as I suck in a deep breath and taste that spicy masculine sweetness on the back of my tongue. Even the bathroom smells like him, like forest and leather and earth. This is real, I think as I look around the bathroom. I really am dating this guy. I can count on one hand the number of times I've showered in a guy's bathroom, especially after sleeping next to him and not having sex.
“Holy crap, I whisper as I move over and start the shower, climbing in before I realize there's nothing but a bottle of 2-in-1 shampoo and conditioner and a bar of soap. That's it. I shake my head as I lather up anyway and start to wash. My shower looks like the hygiene aisle at a grocery store: shampoo, conditioner, deep conditioner, shaving cream, razors, bodywash, face wash, a bar of soap. And that's nothing compared to Kailey's place. She has different scents for every day of the week.
I've just rinsed my hair and started washing my body when I hear a sound behind me, spinning around to find Royal leaning in the open door of the shower and grinning at me.
“Morning, Pint-Size,” he says as I cover my crotch with one hand and wrap an arm over my breasts. Everything's soapy, so I'm sure the motion does more harm than good when it comes to giving Royal a show, but I do it out of reflex. How weird is it that being naked with someone during sex has literally nothing to do with being naked outside of it? I'm suddenly embarrassed, taking a step back and bumping my ass against the slate tiles.
Royal's full mouth curves to the side in a lazy, sexy smile.
“You smell like my shampoo,” he says as he looks me over, nice and slow, from my head all the way down to my toes. “I like that. A lot.” I watch as Royal steps out of his jeans and joins me in the shower, sliding the glass door closed behind him.
In this tight space, it's impossible for me not to look. Royal's just standing there in all his six foot four glory, his cock rigid and proud, the hot water sluicing between his lips, sliding over hardened muscles and tattoos.
I press my body against the wall when all I really want to do is drop to my knees and put my mouth around the head of his cock. My heart starts to flutter again, and I feel light-headed and dizzy. Too much, too early, too little sleep.
A moan slips out when Royal reaches over and slides his hand down my shoulder, taking hold of my wrist and pulling it away from my breasts.
“I have to go to work,” I say, but it's not really a protest at all. In fact, that also seems to come out in moan format. Maybe I'm just not capable of talking when I have Royal McBride naked and erect in front of me? “I have to … mmm.”
Royal pulls my hand away from my pussy and pins my wrists above my head, leaning down and taking my lower lip between his teeth. I lean into his touch, arching my neck and trying to connect our mouths for a kiss. The asshole doesn't let me, pulling back with a wicked smirk burning across his lips.
“What was that, sweetheart? I didn't quite hear you. You have to do what now?”
“You're such a … a prick,” I say, but Royal just laughs at me, his dark hair wet and sticking to his forehead as he holds me in place with his left hand, tracing my body with his right. His touch electrifies, leaves a trail across my skin that feels like it must be burned. Each spot his fingertips graze over feels marred, marked, like I could never wash away the sensation of his touch. Like I'd never even want to.
“That so?” Royal asks, leaning down and brushing his lips against mine again, just enough to make me ache and tremble, strain towards him, but not enough to satiate the burning desire he ignites me. I keep thinking that after this fuck or that one, it'll cool down and I'll be able to think more clearly.
Wrong.
Each time I let Royal touch me, that I touch him, it adds fuel to the fire.
I think I'm in love with him.
I banish that traitorous thought, just like I did before. One week and three days in … not enough time.
See, you're all caught up in that. A week. Who cares how long it's been? You like me or not, Pint-Size? Stop trying to map everything out.
Royal's words flicker through my mind as he kisses his way up my jaw, nibbles on my ear, drops his mouth to my throat. I pull against his hands, but it's not much of a struggle at all. I don't want to escape, don't want to be anywhere but here.
“Tell me again what I am, Pint-Size,” Royal growls against my ear, his breath making me shiver as I squeeze my thighs together and he leans his body into mine, his erection pressing against my stomach as I suck in a harsh breath and look up to meet that powerful gaze of his.
“You're a prick,” I say, and he laughs, the vibration in his body sending mine into a frenzy, my nipples hardening into points, my stomach clenching, muscles squeezing as Royal rubs against me, kissing around my lips but refusing to meet me mouth to mouth. “And a tease apparently.”