double doors opened. Relaxing when she saw Jack, she continued soaping up and watched, wary but interested, as his clothes joined hers on the floor.
His usual smirk evolved into an outright grin, and she knew he realized that she was trapped into the music selection. The shower was much larger than the one at her house, but Jack crowding it took her breath away just the same.
“Thought I’d find you here,” he rumbled close to her ear as she easily surrendered the plush rag to him.
“Why? Because I said I was going to shower?” She yelled over the music and curved a taunting smile watching as his hair begin to plaster to his head and down his neck and shoulders.
“Ha, Mariss. So funny.”
But she wasn’t laughing and neither was he. Draping the washcloth over one of the showerheads, he soaped up his hands, and her eyes fell closed as she enjoyed the slip and slide of his fingers on her skin.
“Can we turn it off?” she begged when the sound compromised her complete enjoyment of the moment. “Or at least down?”
His arm stretched to a panel that she had not noticed, way higher up on the wall, and the blissful sound of only water followed. He gave her a rundown on the functioning of the automated system, but was quickly back to his soapy task.
“Tristan still eating?” She wasn’t yet used to not having to worry where he was every second. As much as she trusted Jack, she didn’t know how responsible Dax was.
“No. He’s playing guitar for Randi.” He had moved behind her, and spoke into her neck while his hands skimmed down her sides.
“Jack...” She couldn’t believe she was going to say what she was about to. Never, even in the years of being engaged to her ex, had this happened. Then again, never had she been sexed up so many times in a week. And certainly not by anyone so–
Even as she thought in terms of size, it was there firm against the small of her back as Jack crowded her to the wall.
With those decorated arms braced on either side of her body, and his breath hotter than the steam of the shower against her face, extreme deja vu overtook the moment.
This was how Tristan had been added to their life.
As if sensing the turn of her thoughts, possibly experiencing the same deja vu, he made the husky assurance, “I brought a condom.”
If only her problem could be solved that easy.
“I can’t. I’m—I’m sore. Real sore.” The whispered admission spilled past her reluctant lips.
His hands stilled, then one quickly retreated from its intimate local, and she swallowed her disappointment. Easing up slightly, he still maintained his close stance, keeping her against him and the wall, and she miserably stared at the tile and grout.
“Damn, Mariss. I’m sorry honey. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I am. Telling you. It wasn’t like this till today.”
“I’m sorry honey...” He repeated the apology and sounded so miserable that she almost regretted telling him. “I just can’t seem to stay off you. But I will.” His arms curved around her waist holding her back against him. Then, his voice changed, going from soft and gentle, to soft and seductive. “Want me to kiss it better?”
Her insides fluttered and flamed, the afflicted area suddenly throbbing.
“Did Thomas get here yet? I should hurry if he is here.”
“Thomas?” Jack sounded a touch suspicious.
“The stylist.” Immediately, she regretted the sarcasm that coated her answer. For a moment, she had forgotten that Jack was a part of the world of stylists. He had even once mentioned the one that prepped the band for photos.
“Thomas can wait while I do my part to get you ready for tonight.”
“And how is this–” By now, he had turned her to him and dropped to kissing it better level, and she sucked in a gasp at the first touch of his tongue. “...going to get me ready for tonight?”
He took his time with this intimate ‘kiss’ before answering. Her fingers dug into his shoulder, her eyes
His usual smirk evolved into an outright grin, and she knew he realized that she was trapped into the music selection. The shower was much larger than the one at her house, but Jack crowding it took her breath away just the same.
“Thought I’d find you here,” he rumbled close to her ear as she easily surrendered the plush rag to him.
“Why? Because I said I was going to shower?” She yelled over the music and curved a taunting smile watching as his hair begin to plaster to his head and down his neck and shoulders.
“Ha, Mariss. So funny.”
But she wasn’t laughing and neither was he. Draping the washcloth over one of the showerheads, he soaped up his hands, and her eyes fell closed as she enjoyed the slip and slide of his fingers on her skin.
“Can we turn it off?” she begged when the sound compromised her complete enjoyment of the moment. “Or at least down?”
His arm stretched to a panel that she had not noticed, way higher up on the wall, and the blissful sound of only water followed. He gave her a rundown on the functioning of the automated system, but was quickly back to his soapy task.
“Tristan still eating?” She wasn’t yet used to not having to worry where he was every second. As much as she trusted Jack, she didn’t know how responsible Dax was.
“No. He’s playing guitar for Randi.” He had moved behind her, and spoke into her neck while his hands skimmed down her sides.
“Jack...” She couldn’t believe she was going to say what she was about to. Never, even in the years of being engaged to her ex, had this happened. Then again, never had she been sexed up so many times in a week. And certainly not by anyone so–
Even as she thought in terms of size, it was there firm against the small of her back as Jack crowded her to the wall.
With those decorated arms braced on either side of her body, and his breath hotter than the steam of the shower against her face, extreme deja vu overtook the moment.
This was how Tristan had been added to their life.
As if sensing the turn of her thoughts, possibly experiencing the same deja vu, he made the husky assurance, “I brought a condom.”
If only her problem could be solved that easy.
“I can’t. I’m—I’m sore. Real sore.” The whispered admission spilled past her reluctant lips.
His hands stilled, then one quickly retreated from its intimate local, and she swallowed her disappointment. Easing up slightly, he still maintained his close stance, keeping her against him and the wall, and she miserably stared at the tile and grout.
“Damn, Mariss. I’m sorry honey. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I am. Telling you. It wasn’t like this till today.”
“I’m sorry honey...” He repeated the apology and sounded so miserable that she almost regretted telling him. “I just can’t seem to stay off you. But I will.” His arms curved around her waist holding her back against him. Then, his voice changed, going from soft and gentle, to soft and seductive. “Want me to kiss it better?”
Her insides fluttered and flamed, the afflicted area suddenly throbbing.
“Did Thomas get here yet? I should hurry if he is here.”
“Thomas?” Jack sounded a touch suspicious.
“The stylist.” Immediately, she regretted the sarcasm that coated her answer. For a moment, she had forgotten that Jack was a part of the world of stylists. He had even once mentioned the one that prepped the band for photos.
“Thomas can wait while I do my part to get you ready for tonight.”
“And how is this–” By now, he had turned her to him and dropped to kissing it better level, and she sucked in a gasp at the first touch of his tongue. “...going to get me ready for tonight?”
He took his time with this intimate ‘kiss’ before answering. Her fingers dug into his shoulder, her eyes
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