Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 95340 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95340 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
I also don’t want to ask him to join me; I want him to want to join me.
“Do you want to get naked in the shower with someone?” Brodie asks when I don’t respond to his question, practically blurting out the words, face turning bright red as he does it. The tips of his ears are red, too.
Kind of adorable.
I look him up and down. Brazenly, if I don’t say so myself.
“Obviously.”
With that, I leave his bedroom for the second time tonight, turning on the water to warm the shower before taking my clothes off.
I remove everything one by one, folding my pants, shirt, underwear, and bra, and stacking them neatly on the back of the toilet.
Step in to the shower, easing under its spray, letting myself get used to the hot, steady, flow.
“Oh my god, this feels so good.”
My skin stings—in the best way—flesh burning but so good.
I stand with my face tilted back, letting the water sluice down my body, warming me from the outside in, covering me like a warm blanket.
I have to admit; this shower is nicer than ours, the shower head itself way better. Fancier, as if they took out the shitty one landlords typically provide and replaced it with this flat, wide, rain shower head.
It’s magical.
“Ugh…” I groan, body relaxed.
The shower is an insert with a bathtub and a shower, fake tiled and actually decent sized—as if it were built for big dudes. I wonder if the house gets rented to athletes specifically since it seems to be outfitted for someone taller.
Bigger.
Broader.
Certainly not anyone short…
I hear a click.
Listen, fully alert.
Surrounded by steam, I pull the curtain back and peek around it, shocked when the bathroom door opens; I thought I’d locked it so none of Brodie’s roommates would accidentally interrupt my privacy.
Brodie steps in to the bathroom, closing the door behind him.
He locks it.
And he has a towel.
My girly bits positively buzz as I watch him standing by the bathroom door; he hesitates before he begins to undress. Cold air causes me to shiver but I’m not about to give up a free ticket to this front row striptease.
Brodie peels off his shirt with an easy confidence that sends a flutter of anticipation through me, igniting fire in my belly.
Yum…
There was something undeniably sexy about the way he moves whether he know it or not, each of his movements seem deliberate as he sheds his clothes, piece by piece.
Shirt.
Bottoms.
I cannot tear my gaze away as he unbuttons his jeans, the fly undone to reveal the sculpted lines of his abs and that pleasure trail that dips into the waistband.
Even his belly button is freaking sexy.
His flat stomach.
My heart races as he steps out of his pants, leaving him standing before me in nothing but boxers. The sight of him, toned muscles and smooth skin is enough to make my knees weak.
He is about to be completely naked.
I’m seconds away from rubbing my wet boobs all over his chest…
I swallow, mouth suddenly dry when he meets my gaze, a tentative smile playing on his lips. "Mind if I join you?"
I shake my head yes, unable to find my voice.
“Uh huh.”
I move, making room for him, my pulse quickening when he removes his boxers and steps into the shower behind me, the warm water cascading over us in a torrent of heat and desire.
So warm.
So hot.
Steamy.
Wet.
We stand in silence for a moment, the only sound is the steady rhythm of the water as we take each other in.
Of course we’ve seen each other naked. This is not the first.
But this is different, somehow.
More intimate?
It’s quiet except for the water, and feels a bit…
Naughty.
Steam envelops us as we both stand under the cascading water, our bodies inches apart yet connected by an invisible thread of anticipation.
“Should I wash your back?” he asks.
Without a word he reaches for a bottle of liquid soap, his movements deliberate as he began to lather my back with gentle, circular motions. Up my spine, across my shoulders, down my rib cage, his big hands covering a wide expanse of skin at the same time.
I nod, turning away from him, presenting him with my back; the scrub he uses smells like woods and pine and man but I love it, especially when his hands are gliding over my backside.
I close my eyes, surrendering to the sensation of his touch, and with each caress, I feel myself melting… any reservations I had about him crumbling as I stand in his shower, letting him lather me up and take care of me.
His hands trace another path down my spine, leaving a trail of delightful sensations in their wake as he presses closer, his breath hot against my ear. "Don’t you think," he whispers, voice sending shivers down my spine. "That there's something intimate about washing someone's back?"