Page 26 of Hooked on a Feeling

“Lucky me.” John closed his hand around hers and led her into his bathroom. He grabbed three towels and turned the shower on for them. Once it heated, he stepped inside and held out his hand to her.

Neither of them said a word, and John took the liberty of putting shampoo and conditioner in her hair. His insides clenched with the thought of her leaving. He knew her stay in Emerald Port was temporary, but he hadn’t anticipated liking her this much. Meshing with her so well. Once the last suds of conditioner were rinsed from her head, he used his bar of soap and made a lather.

“Oh, I see what you’re doing here.” She pointed to his soapy hands. “Getting a handful.”

“Guilty as fucking charged. I can’t seem to keep them off you.” He paused, hoping she was into this as much as he was.

“I don’t want you to.” She circled his wrists and placed his hands over her shoulders, and he started from there, washing her body all the way to her toes. “I could get used to this.”

“Have you ever thought about water yoga?” he blurted out, his voice echoing against the tiles of the shower.

“What do you mean?”

“Like on a paddleboard. People would kill for something like that here.”

She shook her head. And he stayed silent, because it was almost as if they both knew what he wasn’t saying. You could stay here. You could be happy. We could be happy together. He washed his hair and grabbed his bar of soap. Starr’s hand pressed into his wrist, and she held her hand out.

He placed the soap in her hand. “You’re going to wash me, too, huh?”

“With pleasure.” Instead of making a lather in her hands, she pressed the bar against his collarbone and started moving it slowly over his shoulders and arms. She did his chest and stomach, dipping the bar dangerously close to his fast-growing erection.

She bent down and did each of his legs, and his groan broke the silence while he watched her head move precariously close to his dick. But she apparently had other ideas because she wouldn’t look up to meet his gaze. She teased him like that, rubbing the soap across the tops of his feet, her head brushing his dick just a little bit when she moved to the other leg.

He played along, clenching his fists against his thighs so he wouldn’t haul her to her feet and finish this game she was playing. Finally, she stood and smiled, her eyes lit with mischief. “Turn around.”

He did as he was told and waited while she set the soap down and her palms cascaded across his back and torso. And over his ass, where she gave him two good squeezes before she rested her hands on his hips. Slowly, her hands moved to the front of him, her fingers threading through his pubic hair. She took a step forward, and he could feel her nipples against his back. When her hands edged around his cock, his breath caught in his throat. Her small hand holding him was sexy as hell.

“Is this what you were getting at?” he asked.

Her teeth grazed his back, and her other hand cupped his balls while she continued stroking him. “I want you to come like this.”

The water sluiced across John’s chest, making rivulets that dropped to her hands and disappeared. He enclosed his larger hand over hers and applied just a bit more pressure. He held on to her like that, and the two of them worked together. Back and forth beneath the spray. Every now and then her tongue and teeth would graze his back. His breathing got shorter, his legs tight with tension.

He appreciated that it wasn’t his hand guiding hers. They were working together. She might even be taking the lead. Her hand moved of her own accord under his, pumping his cock in the tempo he’d set, and she kept the right pressure long enough that his balls tightened beneath her other hand, and the strain nearly crippled him.

As if sensing that he was close to a release, she stroked him faster. He let go, hands bracing against the tile while she pumped him over the edge. His groan was feral, and her teeth grazed his back, her breath hot against his spine. He chuckled, unable to fully uncurl his fingers and toes. Jesus fucking Christ, when was the last time someone had jacked him off like that?

“That was intense,” she said.

He closed his eyes and let the spray beat over his face. Starr’s hands moved to his hips, and he immediately hated the lost sensation of her cupping him, holding him, being pressed against him. “It was,” he managed to reply.

“I’m going to get dressed. I better head back to my place.”

He swallowed. He didn’t want her to go, but what could he say? He’d already said too much by bringing up the yoga on paddleboards. She wasn’t going to stay, and there wasn’t much he could do about it. It wasn’t like they had even dated longer than a few days. Plus, he had so much crap on his plate that adding a girlfriend wouldn’t fit into his plans. He shut the water off and stepped out of the shower after her, still feeling the effects of what she’d done to him.

“I can drive you over,” he said.

“No. It’s fine. I need the fresh air.” She glanced out his bedroom window. “I need to think. I need a Realtor so the property can get all sorted out for when it comes out of the trust.” She got onto her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. “That way, I’m not wasting any more time, and we can both get on with our lives.”

Chapter Eleven

“We can sell this in a day. Stat.” Rowan McNeal, the Realtor, snapped his fingers, and Starr jerked in response. He was all too eager to meet on a Sunday, but she had assumed that Realtors were never off the clock. He was shorter than she was with jet-black hair and teeth that were as straight as they were white. She hadn’t liked him from the moment he stepped out of his flashy Mercedes Benz and tapped his watch face reminding her that time was money, but she was at the point that she needed to get something done. She needed to get back to her studio and open at full capacity. Let her landlord know that she wanted the second bay.

“You think the condition is okay?” she asked.

“In this market, the condition doesn’t matter as much as the location. It doesn’t look a day over fifty anyway. I have a few friends who own boats. I’ll have them pull the boats into the dock spots, we’ll take a few pictures, and when the official listing hits the market, boom! It’ll make this place look hoppin’.”

Starr’s gut churned at the thought—at the fact that this guy was moving much too quickly for her. According to him, they’d get it under contract within a week, and yes, she wanted her share, but not this fast. It was all just happening a little too quickly. “You know, I think we’re getting a little ahead of ourselves. I simply wanted an opinion. I’m not signing any contract with anyone today. In fact, I have more Realtors who will be meeting me this afternoon, and I owe it to them to listen to what they have to say.”

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