Chute Yeah (The Valentine Boys 3)

I wasn’t sure what I expected her to do, but stepping into it with me wasn’t it.

She squeaked when the cold water drenched her skin.

I immediately reached forward and cranked the hot water on, but she was shivering, plastered up against me before I could draw my next breath.

“Sorry,” I said. “Was trying to calm my dick.”

She pressed against me harder, her turgid nipples dragging along my chest.

And with her there, pressed up against me, I completely forgot about my back. My thigh. And hell, even my pride.

All of my focus boiled down to her. The way she felt in my arms. The way her soft, wet skin felt against my cold, hard flesh.

“I wish you’d have stayed in the bedroom.” She shivered. “I really hate cold.”

I actually remembered that about her.

During the winter when we were in school, she’d wear massive coats, and two pairs of pants just so she wouldn’t be cold.

She used to be made fun of—a lot of those times by me—and she wouldn’t care.

She’d still come to school wearing the same damn ensemble the next day.

“Sorry,” I whispered against her skin. “I’ll warm you up.”

Though, now the water was doing a damn good job of it.

She pressed into me then leaned up onto her tiptoes, bringing her mouth nearly to mine.

All I had to do was drop my mouth a scant inch, and our lips were brushing.

She inhaled deeply when they finally met.

No longer was this a game we were playing.

No longer did I have to pretend that I didn’t want her.

I ate her mouth up like a starving man.

My tongue tangled with hers at the same time that I reversed our positions, slamming her back up against the tiny shower wall.

My shoulders brushed the glass on either side of us, but despite the uncomfortableness of our confines, neither one of us seemed to care.

We were completely focused on each other.

On the way she felt against me, and I felt against her.

“You’re so hard,” she whispered, her hands going over my shoulders.

I grinned, pulling away from her mouth so that I could look into her eyes.

“Yes,” I agreed, digging my very hard cock into the softness of her belly. “I am.”

She snickered, her hand trailing down the length of my chest to come to a stop just above our hips.

“Scoot back,” she ordered.

I did, letting her do what she would.

Her hand automatically went to my cock and started to pump it in between us, my cock head rubbing against her stomach with each pull of her hand.

I dropped my forehead to rest against the shower wall and cursed as I tried not to come right then and there.

“I haven’t been with a woman in a while,” I groaned.

“So, a man then?” she teased.

I choked. “No. Not either sex, Candy. It’s been… a while. Years.”

“And the woman that I saw you with at the rodeo?” I challenged.

“A front. Pick one, the rest usually stay away. Ditch her when no one is looking. It’s been years. I swear.”

Years being right before I’d gotten home and decided not to shit where I slept.

That, and the first time I’d seen Candy again, I realized that I’d been kidding myself.

Nobody but Candy would do anymore. Not when the real thing was within my reach.

“Have you ever thought about this?” she asked. “Us?”

Did I lie?

I wasn’t sure what the proper protocols were here.

“I thought about you…” She paused. “When I was with my first guy after… I thought about you. To get me through. Pretended it was you.”

My heart skipped a beat.

“The second time I was kind of drunk,” she admitted. “I still thought about you.”

I kissed her then, unable to stop myself.

The kiss was hungry, wild, untamed.

I thrust my tongue into her mouth, devoured it and kept coming back for more.

Her hand clenched on my cock, and I knew that I couldn’t wait any longer.

Lifting her up so that she was in the perfect spot, I leaned my body into her and reached for my cock that she’d dropped in her surprise.

Lining it up with her entrance, I pulled back and stared into her eyes as I fed it into her, inch by slow inch.

“I’m okay,” she promised, her voice husky and her chest heaving.

I watched her face the entire time, making sure that she was, indeed, okay. I also let her lead. Didn’t make any move until her body and her eyes told me it was okay.

And when I finally bottomed out inside of her, my cock buried in the tightest pussy I’d ever felt in my life, I knew that she was okay.

I wasn’t, though.

Something had changed the moment that I’d gotten my cock buried inside of her. Something that told me that I’d never be able to pretend that another woman was her ever again.

Nobody would ever be her.