Rock Me(11)

“Wow.”

“Right?” I put my keycard back in my wallet and tossed it on the small table near the door. The room was more than adequate for me, with a king-sized bed, huge television, and a bathroom big enough to park a small truck.

I wanted her, but I’d just spent two hours on stage jumping, screaming, and sweating like a damn pig. I was not going to get naked with my girl like this. And talking would lead to kissing, and kissing would lead to naked. So, yeah. Shower first. “I’m going to take a quick shower, and then we’ll talk. Okay? I really need one.” I plucked at my t-shirt.

She chuckled and something tight in my chest unwound, just a little. “I know.”

I grinned and headed for the bathroom, pulling the door closed behind me, but not latching it. I didn’t want to shut her out, and I didn’t want a closed door between us. It was crazy, but I was afraid if she heard that latch click, she’d wake up from this fantasy I was in and she’d run.

Stripping in record time, I was under the water as fast as humanly possible. Every minute I was in here was another minute something could go wrong.

If I didn’t smell like a sweaty, disgusting mess I would have had her naked and under me already.

The soap smelled like ginger and lemons and some other frou-frou shit I would never use, but it worked, and it was easier than packing that kind of stuff myself. I was a man on a mission, and had everything clean faster than I would have thought possible. I closed my eyes and washed my hair, sticking my head under the water to rinse. My face was in the flow of hot water when I felt her hand on my back.





Chapter 6





Kit



My eyes flew open and my cock went instantly hard as I turned to find her standing naked in the shower with me.

Fuck. Me.

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

She lifted her hand to my chest, rubbing in a small circle that chased every fucking thought from my head. Nothing. There was nothing inside my skull but her. But the sight of her naked body. She stepped closer, her blue eyes clouded with lust and secrets and longing. “Is it okay if we talk later?”

Green light. Go.

Hell, yeah.

My answer was to lower my lips to hers and pull her close.

Our mouths fused and I forgot to breathe. This was not the kiss of the sweet girl who’d given me her virginity all those years ago. The kiss was hot and wet, her lips demanding a response.

My cock pulsed and swelled to the point of pain between us. Her body was hot and pliant and I explored every inch of her that I could reach in some kind of frantic and pathetic need to relearn her curves, reclaim my territory. Her skin was soft, her curves lusher than I remembered.

Mine. She was mine.

I pushed her up against the tile wall and kissed my way down her body, stopping to worship her breasts, suck her nipples, rub my stubble along the curve of her hip the way I knew would make her shudder.

Dropping to my knees, I shoved her legs wide and used my hands to open her up to me, to my tongue.

Her fingers tightened into fists in my hair and her legs started shaking, but I wasn’t stopping, and I wasn’t being gentle.

I looked up her body to meet her blurry gaze. Yeah, she was right there with me.

There was no tenderness in me, not right now. I needed her to scream my name. I needed to feel her pussy pulse and clench down on my fingers as I sucked her clit into my mouth. I needed to conquer.

“Kit.” My name was more whimper than spoken word.

Yes. That was what I needed to hear.

I sucked and licked, sliding two fingers inside to stroke her off while I worked her with my mouth, remembering exactly how she liked it. She came all over me seconds later, her soft cries better than any song I’d ever written.

If I could make a song that sounded like the woman a man loved coming in his arms, I’d be the richest man on the planet. I could listen to that shit all night, and I was going to.

Her legs were too weak to hold her up when I reached over to turn off the water. But her hand reached for mine, stopped me before I could hit the handle. “No. I want you here. Just like this. Up against the wall, just like we used to.”

Fuuuuuck.

Her words brought back the visual. Whitmore had top notch locker rooms with showers and neither one of us had ever wanted to go home. Her to a mother who drank too much, a dad who spent more time bitching about life than working. Me to Ivy League parents I could never please and the bedrooms haunted by two older brothers I could never live up to.

We’d spent a lot of time in the showers after practice, fucking up against the tile, right next to the rest of the girls’ soccer team in their private shower stalls.

I used to play a game, catching every gasp and cry of her pleasure in my mouth so we wouldn’t be discovered by her teammates just a few feet away.