And not just kissing her.
Really kissing her.
Kissing her like there wasn’t going to be a tomorrow. Kissing her like his next breath depended on it. Kissing her like she’d never, ever, been kissed before. Because she hadn’t. Not like that. None of the guys she’d been with before held a candle to Brock and his sinfully talented, sensuous mouth.
It was his fault. Everything. He probably knew it was going to rain. He probably planned it. He’d worn those jeans for a reason. Because he knew they were skin tight and sexy as sin on him and that was before the rain. Soaking wet, they outlined the delicious curve of an ass that had no right to look so… mouth wateringly tempting.
He was made of granite. That ass was carved out of stone. Hell, those jeans even outlined the crack. June had no idea that a male wedgie could actually be sexy.
It was. Oh god, it was, and now here she was, Brock’s amazing tongue halfway down her throat, his lips doing things to her that made her frozen legs want to turn into a puddle of goo. Her outside was frozen from the rain, but her insides were a different story. She was combusting inside. Spontaneous human combustion. She remembered when she was a kid, how that used to be a thing. People trying to prove it was real.
Oh, it was real alright. She was burning up from the inside out.
She knew it.
Brock knew it too.
She managed to tear her mouth away from the sensual onslaught. Her eyes flew open and she reached up with trembling fingers and ran them over her lips. Were they as swollen and red as Brock’s? Lust tightened his features and caveman desire burned in his midnight obsidian eyes. His pupils dilated, and his shoulders heaved with the hard spurts of his breath, like he’d just run a long, long way to lock her in that bathroom with him.
She knew she had to stay calm as his eyes focused in on her. On her throat, as they dropped lower, to the swell of her breasts, lower, down past her waist, where she wanted him most. She swallowed past the tightening of her throat and narrowed her eyes to show him she meant business. She balled her hands into fists at her sides, but it was impossible to pretend that she wasn’t aroused.
“I- I’ve wanted to do that all morning,” Brock confessed. “Since I woke up and found you in bed with me.” He swallowed audibly, and it was amazing that a guy who looked like he did, could be affected by her. Her, June. The woman that all three of her previous boyfriends had cheated on. The woman who got left by her latest love interest for a fucking dude.
She froze in place even though she wanted to rip away when he caressed her bottom lip with the pad of his thumb. How could he be so warm when he was soaking wet?
“I have this need to see you,” he said huskily, in a voice that was smoke and danger and promised the best, mind-blowing sex of her life. “Completely and utterly naked. Nothing between us.” He swallowed loudly again. “I woke up with the taste of you on my lips. I want that again. I want to be the one who warms you up. I want to lick that shower right off your skin. Off your nipples. Off your-”
“Holy shit!” June backed up, tearing away. She gave her head a shake. What the hell? She needed that foot of distance between them so her brain would actually start functioning. If she was a guy, she’d definitely accuse herself of thinking with her dick.
“What? Should I not want you? You’re a beautiful woman and I have eyes. You were naked in bed with me. I’ve been rock hard all day thinking about you. In my bed. In my shower. Stealing my toothbrush and my t-shirt.”
Her entire body clenched painfully. Her ovaries were currently doing a dance of joy. It was like that rain had done something to her, transported her to another world where a man like Brock, who was pure, walking sex, found her beautiful.
He was locked in a bathroom with her. Proposing that they get naked in the shower. A man like him. How the hell could she have a problem with that? Was it slutty to strip and let him do all those things he’d said to her? Her body said hell no, it wasn’t slutty at all. Her mind protested, but it was a losing battle.
Besides, he was her husband.
They were married.
“You said this morning that we have nothing in common. I want to show you that we do. We have lots in common.”
“Like- like what?” I should be telling him to get the hell out. We’re taking too long. Everyone will wonder what the hell we’re doing.