Page 166 of Holding On

He's gazing down at his hand, which has stopped at the top button of my dress. His eyes lift to mine, and boldly, without a hint of hesitation, he undoes the top button.

"You were remembering..." He undoes the next button. "How we used to what?"

"How you..." I close my eyes so I can think of what to say. I'm so turned on, I'm having trouble forming words. "How you used to..." I lose my thought as his hand slides under my now open dress and cups my breast.

I feel his mouth by my ear. "How I used to what?"

"Touch me," I breathe out.

His other hand reaches down and slips under my dress. "Like this?" he asks, his fingers moving slowly up the inside of my thigh.

I think I nod but I'm not sure.

"And this?" He moves my panties aside and touches the spot that makes me moan in pleasure.

I feel his mouth over mine, then hear him whisper, "I miss you, Becca."

My eyes open and I see him looking at me. "I miss you too."

We kiss and my hands go to his muscular chest, his abs, down to the front of his shorts, stroking him, feeling how much he wants me. I want him too.

"Becca," he groans. "Tell me we're doing this."

"We're doing this." I smile against his lips.

He kisses me once more, then takes my hand and leads me to his bedroom. Standing by the bed, I shimmy out of my dress, then realize it's my uniform.

"Oh, shit."

"What?" he asks, shoving off his shorts.

"I just got off work. I smell like chicken."

He laughs. "I don't care. Get over here." He pulls me toward him and I get a whiff of my hair, which smells like grease.

I pull away. "I have to shower. I can't smell like this."

He grins. "Good idea. We've never done it in the shower. Now with my cast off, we finally can."

"No, that's not why I suggested it. I have to get this—"

He kisses me, then scoops me up and carries me into his bathroom, keeping hold of me as he starts the water.

"You can set me down," I say.

"And risk you running off? Not a chance in hell." He opens the shower door and goes inside, then sets me down in front of him. My girly shower gel is still there on the shelf, which makes me smile. I can see it hasn't been used by anyone else, which also makes me smile. I grab the bottle and pour some in my hand.

"Let me do it," Ethan says, turning my hand over so the soap falls onto his palm. Then he turns me around and slides his hands over my breasts while kissing the side of my neck.

"I think those are clean," I say, smiling.

"I have to make sure." He gently tugs on my nipples and a quiver of pleasure shoots down my core. I tip my head back against his warm chest, my eyes shutting as the water flows over us.

He continues to lather me up, paying extra attention to the areas he knows drive me wild from his touch. I love that he knows me so well. I love HIM. I don't know want that means for the future, but right now I don't care. I just want to be with him.

"Ethan," I moan as the peak of pleasure hits me. That was the second time. The first time happened from him just touching me with his hands. We haven't been in here that long and I've already come twice, thanks to Ethan. The boy knows what he's doing.

He sets me down on the floor of the shower. I'm exhausted. My legs are weak. I can barely stand up. But it's the best kind of tired. The kind where you're completely relaxed after having been with the man you love.

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