Totally Tormented by Lucy Covington Page B

for you in your room?”
    I started to move around him toward the door, but he stepped in front of me.
    “Why?” he said. “Don’t you need a shower, too, Pip?” His finger reached out and traced my collarbone, moving the collar of my t-shirt over as he found the strap of my bra. He pushed it down my shoulder just a little, teasing me.
    “Oh, no,” I said. “I’m not dirty. I mean, I’m clean enough.”
    “You sure, Pip?” he said wickedly. “I think you’re plenty dirty.”
    “I’m not showering with you.” But my voice didn’t sound convincing, even to my own ears.
    “Why not?” He puffed his lip out in a pout, like he was upset that he wasn’t getting his way. It was so damn adorable I almost couldn’t deal.
    “Because,” I said firmly.
    “Because you don’t trust me?”
    “And now why would I not trust you?” I asked sarcastically. “You’ve done nothing but prove yourself to be completely trustworthy.”
    His face darkened for a moment, and I had the feeling I’d said something wrong.
    He took another step toward me, his chest pushing against mine, my breasts flattening out against the hardness of his pecs. He grabbed my shoulders. “I would never do anything to hurt you, Lindsay. You know that, right?”
    I nodded. But I wasn’t so sure. It wasn’t that I thought he would try to hurt me.
    It was that I could feel myself starting to get consumed by him. I was giving him the ability to hurt me just by letting him get so close. It was like tying yourself to a train track, just waiting to get run over. It wouldn’t be the train’s fault if it couldn’t stop in time – but you’d get hurt anyway, because you’d be lying there, like a sitting duck.
    “Come on,” he said, running his palms down my arms until he got to my hands.
    He intertwined his fingers with mine and then pulled them up so they were at eye level.
    It was totally sexy, and yet he made it seem somehow innocent, like we were playing a game of paddy cake or something.
    My breathing was accelerating and my heart was pounding. How could he stand there seemingly so cool while we were talking about showering together? Was it because he did this with tons of girls, all the time? No doubt he was more experienced than I was.
    He had a body that was built for sex, and I was sure girls were throwing themselves at him whenever and wherever they could.
    “I can’t.” I shook my head. But my will was starting to crumble.
    “Please,” he whispered. He wasn’t joking around anymore. Instead, he sounded intense. I wondered if he was as turned on as I was, not that I could imagine being any more turned on. My body felt like it was going to explode.
    “Justin –”
    His hands wrapped around my waist, then slid up under the back of my shirt, stroking my bare back. “You can keep your underwear on,” he said. “What can be so bad about that? It’s just like wearing a bathing suit.”
    His hands pulled me closer to him, his fingers moving higher and higher up the back of my shirt. Goosebumps had broken out on my arms, and I took a deep breath. I didn’t say yes, but he must have taken my silence as permission, because his hands moved around to my stomach, stroking my abdomen before slipping down and unbuttoning my shorts.
    He looked at me, his eyes questioning, and I slowly nodded. He slid the zipper of my shorts down slowly, agonizingly, and then pulled my shirt over my head. Then he dropped his own shorts so he was standing there in just his boxers before he took my hand and pulled me into the shower.
    I told myself it was no big deal. We’d been in our underwear together before, when we went swimming in the ocean. But something about this felt different. That was swimming. This was showering. Something about it was more intimate.
    The steam had filled up the room, and when we stepped into the shower, I felt a little light-headed. The moisture warmed my skin, and Justin stood under the spray, beads of water collecting on his