Fall Into You. Roni Loren
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know a first down from first base.”
Grant breathed in a deep gulp of steamy air, willing himself not to turn around and take the eyeful he so wanted. She was drunk. And apparently some idiot at her job had thrown a grenade at her today. He couldn’t give in to the urge.
“Darlin’, obviously you’re working with some world-class imbeciles. But do you mind wrapping up with a towel? Otherwise, you’re going to be real mad at yourself and me in the morning.”
She sniffed. “Well, see, there you go. The thought of me naked is even too much for you to bear.”
Oh, she had no idea. “Now you’re just talking stupid.”
“Great. So I’m not just ugly but stupid. Gee, thanks. You can go now.”
“Enough.” He spun around right as she was securing the towel, a towel that barely made it past the juncture of her legs. He wet his lips, the rest of his planned words sticking to his mouth like taffy.
“Just go.”
He closed the distance between them with two strides, and up close he could see that even though her jaw was set, her eyes were glassy with unshed tears. “Look, I don’t know what happened to you today or what you’re trying to prove to yourself right now, but let’s get one thing straight—you know nothing about what I think of you.”
“So tell me then,” she challenged. “Can’t be any worse than what I’ve already heard today.”
He moved into her personal space, backing her into the wall and bracing his hands on each side of her. “The truth? I think you’ve had a really shitty day and you’re looking for a fight or a fuck to make you forget it.”
Her eyes widened, her breath hitching.
“You want to yell at me, freckles? You want to pummel me to get all that anger out? Because go ahead. I’m right here.”
She stared back at him, frozen for a moment, then she licked her lips nervously. “That’s not what I want to do with you.”
His breathing was loud in his own ears. He needed to walk away. Right. Now. But his mouth was acting on its own accord. “Tell me what you want, Charli.”
Half of him hoped she wouldn’t follow his command, that she’d push him away. Because this was about as bad an idea as he’d ever considered. But if she told him, if she asked, he didn’t think he had it in him to deny her.
She couldn’t seem to bring her gaze up to him, but he didn’t miss the whispered plea. “I need to forget today. I need something good.”
And with that, his desire knocked off his good sense. Bang, bang. Dead.
“Something good it is, then.” He lifted Charli up and wound her legs around him, fitting the bare curve of her ass into his palms and dragging her against his straining erection. She tucked her face into the crook of his neck and made a soft, desperate sound that curled through him like hot smoke, filling his nerve endings.
But his raging libido was going to have to wait. He wasn’t going to fuck her drunk, couldn’t cross that line. But he could give her what she needed. He carried her over to the shower and pulled open the door, the steam spilling out into the room, then stepped in fully clothed, bringing them both under the hot stream of water. She lifted her head, surprise coloring her eyes as the water sluiced over her, soaking the towel and sloughing the dirt off her arms.
“Your clothes,” she said, looking down at his now-saturated shirt.
“Don’t worry about me, freckles. Just hold on to that towel bar behind you and let me make you feel good.”
Her gaze went hazy with arousal and maybe a little fear, but she followed his instruction. He kept an arm banded around her to make sure she was steady on her feet, then he slipped his hand beneath the edge of the towel, brushing against the smoothness of her inner thighs and sliding upward to find the damp thatch of hair at their juncture. She closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the shower wall. God, he wanted to yank that towel off her, see her stretched out like this and totally bare, but he knew if he took it that far, he’d end up inside her, taking more than he had any right to. He brushed his finger along her cleft, and she bucked against him, the simple touch pulling a moan from her.
The sound was like a stroke to his cock, her sensitivity like waving a red flag in front of a bull. Oh, how he could torture someone so responsive, drag out her pleasure until she was begging for release. “Darlin’, if you’re that keyed up, this isn’t going to take long.”
“Please,” she whispered, her hips tilting toward his touch.
He smiled, giving her what she sought, a firm slide over her clit. The nub seemed to swell beneath his fingers, her arousal coating his skin despite the shower water pounding down on them. He could smell her sexy scent, so sweet and tempting. He’d love to part those thighs and taste every bit of her, but instead he tucked two fingers inside her heat and kept his thumb against her clit.
“Oh, God.” Her body clenched around his fingers and she rocked against his hand, shamelessly taking things to the pace she craved. Needy. Starved.
“That’s right,” he said against her ear as he pumped his fingers inside her. “Take what you need. Let yourself go.”
As if she’d been waiting for the words, she let out a sharp cry and her fingers went bloodless against the towel bar. The tremor of orgasm seemed to go through every inch of her, her body quivering in front of him, going flushed and pink. Quick, breathy gasps slipped past her lips as she undulated against his touch, milking every bit of pleasure she could.
His cock pressed against his zipper, begging for relief, for her, but he clenched his jaw and willed the ache away. He knew how to hold back his own need for hours in a play session. He could handle this. At least that’s what he kept repeating in his head as Charli drifted down from her quick-and-dirty orgasm.
He moved his hand away from her and resisted the urge to lick her arousal from his fingers, to let her watch how he would savor her taste. Or even better, to paint it over her nipples and then suck them clean. His cock flexed and he held back a groan. He was on the precipice of losing his control. This had been a bad idea. If she could push him to this point with him simply touching her, he was in trouble.
He reached out and turned off the shower. Her eyes fluttered open, the daze of orgasm still heavy in her expression. Her hands slipped off the bar and she pushed her sopping hair away from her face. “Wow, that was…I don’t usually…”
He smiled, though the effort was strained from his own keyed-up state. “Feel better?”
“So much better. Thank you.” She pushed off the wall and reached for the nape of his neck. He watched the play of desire move over her features, loving the way her fingers tightened against his skin. He found himself contemplating how easy it would be to loosen that towel, bind her arms with it, and take her right there against the shower wall. Her look said she would let him. But before he could truly lose all sense of right and wrong, she lifted up on her toes, her face moving toward him. Panic zipped through him like an electric bolt when he realized what she was going to do, and he instinctively moved his head to the left, dodging the kiss.
She blinked up at him, surprised by the quick movement, then she registered what he’d done. A cold mask crossed over her features.
“Charli, we can’t, I can’t—”
She grabbed the top of her towel, which was now sagging with the weight of all the water, and held it tight, not looking up. “Right. I get it.”
“Charli,” he repeated.
“No, really. It’s fine. I got off, and that’s what I asked for. Much obliged. You can go now.”
He wanted to explain, to reach out and fix that wounded expression. But the damage was already done. And having her think he didn’t