“So… you do know where your own shower is, don’t you?”
He seemed to shake himself out of his trance. “Yeah.” His smooth grin tied her belly up into a series of knots and for a brief second she forgot about everything but him. “Yeah, I know where it is. I was just giving you a little bit of time to figure out you don’t want to do this and leave.”
“I do want to do this. I’m not drunk. This is me saying yes, and I’m sure.”
She wasn’t sure if it was endearing, Cason trying to act like a gentleman, or if it was a little humiliating that it was so obvious that she was a good girl and inexperienced in the ways of brief passionate encounters.
Cason erased the distance between them in literally the blink of an eye. He charged her, feral and hungry, scooped her up easily, like she weighed nothing at all, and hammered his mouth to hers. HE was delicious. All scorching hot heat and hunger. She loved the taste of whisky on his breath.
She loved the way his hands dug into her backside even more, as she wrapped her legs around his massive hips, and he carried her out of the kitchen. It was a mess, flour and ingredients everywhere, but he wasn’t bothered with it, with the mess or the cleaning, and in a way, that was hot. He’d forgotten all about waffles and whatever else he’d been doing, and it was just her.
A woman he didn’t even know.
A woman he was kissing beyond breathless just the same.
The house wasn’t large, and it only took a few seconds before he shoved her back against a door and it gave way. He fumbled inside, flipping a switch and the overhead light came on to reveal a modest bathroom with all the usuals. Toilet, sink, tub, and a glass shower that stood separate.
She’d never had sex in a shower before. It was why she’d suggested it. She truly wanted to do all of this for the first time. Not just bits and pieces.
He set her down on top of the sink vanity and stepped back. There was nothing slow or casual about his movements as his fingers flew over the buttons of his plaid shirt. He freed it and stripped the fabric off his arms, over his broad, rippling shoulders, and down a chest so ripped that it made her wish that washers weren’t actually a thing anymore. She’d love to scrub clothes on those abs. God, it wasn’t even a six pack, it was more like an eight pack, the muscles so defined that they made her mouth water.
He was spectacularly made, all man, all raw and hard, angles and planes, edges and bronzed skin. He obviously shaved his chest, because it was completely devoid of hair. The only place any of the crisp, wiry dark hairs appeared were around his naval. They thickened, leading lower, disappearing underneath his jeans.
It made her fingers itch to peel them away.
She watched him do it, even as her hands tingled. Cason’s stronger ones unbuttoned his faded, ripped denim. He unzipped his fly, the only sound in the bathroom besides their heavy breathing, and pushed his jeans, and his boxers, together down his legs. He stepped from them, peeled off his socks, and stepped back, letting her take him in.
Take. Him. In.
She wanted to really take him in, the spot between her legs pulsing like someone had just zapped her with a cattle prod. It wasn’t a good analogy, but it was the only thing she could think of at the moment. She’d never ached like that before. Throbbed. She could feel herself leaking all over the counter- again- but she never tore her eyes away from the beautiful specimen in front of her.
Cason was too gorgeous to be real. His legs were just as defined as the rest of him, muscles rippling there like in his shoulders and arms. She took in that masculine ridge, that place below the six pack, above the groin area, where all the muscles seemed to stem from or end at. Slowly, she let her eyes trail lower, down to the massive, thick erection that stood up proudly. She didn’t give herself time to really study what was below it, because her face flushed so hot it felt like someone took a blowtorch to it.
That cock was built- er- formed, just like the rest of him. Massive. Tall. Proud.
Her mouth watered, but fear pinched her stomach. She didn’t want to suck at this, but she’d already put the offer out there. She just wasn’t sure how she was ever going to get that into her mouth.
“Should I start the shower?” Cason wasn’t smirking. His face was completely neutral, and she had the feeling he was still giving her time to back out. She also had the feeling that once she hit that shower, it was game fricking over and neither of them were going to have much control.