She sets me down against the wall and points at the sink. “Lean against it and I’ll go grab a stool.” When she leaves, it feels like my body cripples and my skin dissolves. It’s so empty. So…void of any emotion, any thought. Just like before she came into my life.
I liked the silence. It gave me peace.
But the funny thing is now I’m not sure I miss the silence.
As she comes back, the warmth floods back into the bathroom and so does my smile. She returns my smile as she passes me and places the stool in the shower, and then turns it on.
An uncomfortable moment passes between us before she walks toward the door. “Do ya thing,” she says, waving.
But I grab her hand.
“Don’t,” I mumble under a heavy breath. “Don’t leave. Please.”
Her eyes narrow, and she sucks on her bottom lip. “Please?”
I let out a sigh. “I know I haven’t done anything good, but …”
She places a finger on my lip, silencing me instantly. Her eyes grow fiery as she grabs both my hands and guides me to the shower. Every stumble is a little less painful when she touches me. She guides my hand to the shower door, making me hold onto it as she wraps her fingers around her shirt. I watch as she takes her clothes off piece by piece, throwing them on the floor behind me. And for some reason, this is so much fucking sexier than the striptease she did for me just a few hours ago.
When her bra comes off, I marvel at the sight of her tits, so round and perfect. But at the same time, it makes me swallow like a fucking teenager. Hormones rage through my body as she takes off the tiny bit of scrap between her legs, exposing her bare pussy. And my God, does it look tasty.
Her fingers curl around the edge of my boxer shorts, and just the touch of her fingers on my skin makes me stiff. I struggle to contain a hiss as she rolls down the fabric, her eyes never leaving mine. Except for when my cock springs out, fully erect.
Which is also when her eyes grow big and her pierced tongue dips out to lick her lips.
Fuck. Me.
The way she looks at me fucks me up, dammit.
I want her so badly, but how could she want me when I look like this? It makes no fucking sense.
After pulling off my shorts and throwing them to the side, she quickly stands again, and I realize that I might have crossed a line when I got hard.
Even though I can’t do much about my hunger for her, she shouldn’t have to face it all the time. Not when I keep her in my home like a goddamn prisoner. I want her to want me without it being fake, without her doing it just to get free.
So when she grabs my hand to pull me under the shower, I grab her arm and say, “I don’t want you if you don’t want me.”
“What’s this all about?” She raises a brow.
“My cock and your fucking tongue almost licking it, that’s what,” I growl.
“Oh …” A devious grin appears on her face. “Well, who says I don’t want you too?”
I frown at her, grunting. “Don’t believe it.”
She makes a face and shakes her head. Then she pulls me under the water. “Believe what you wanna believe.”
Water pours down onto my face, but I brush it away and grab her arms. “Look at me!” I say, pointing at my face.
“I’m looking straight at you,” she says.
Point blank.
Not a fucking bullet can hit me the way she does with just her words.
For a few seconds, the silence hangs between us and the only sound is the water cascading down our bodies. I can’t help but feel completely lost in her eyes. I don’t just want her. I need her like I need the air I breathe. Like I need someone to fix this broken heart of mine. And it feels like she’s reaching for it with her bare hands, straight through my fucking chest.
Fuck it.
I grab her face and pull her in for a full-on kiss on the lips.
I don’t go easy. I don’t go soft.
I take her mouth like it was mine from the start, licking her lips to coax her to open them.
Screw our differences, screw our situation, and screw what we look like or where we came from.
I’m staking my claim, and she belongs to me now.
I kiss her as deeply as possible, licking her with fervor, wanting to taste every inch of her.
I don’t know what drives me to take and take until there’s nothing left.
Maybe it’s the fear that every kiss may be the last. If so, I have to make the best of it.
But when her fingers thread around my neck, I pull back. My body acts on its own, flinching, not knowing how to respond to her touch. It feels awkward, out of place. As if she’s not supposed to touch me that way even though I want her to.
She sucks on her bottom lip and lowers her hand to my chest. I can feel her every movement, skin to skin, and it literally sucks the air out of my lungs.