Page 48 of Tempting Him

“Oh, all right,” Jayden says, glancing at me longingly before swimming toward the stairs.

The man walks off, allowing us to get out of the pool without an audience. Jay tosses me a towel when I emerge, and we both dry off as well as we can before donning our clothes again.

“Fucking wet underwear and jeans is not comfortable,” Jay complains, tugging at the material.

“This was your idea.”

He smiles. “And I don’t regret it.”

“It was fun,” I say with a grin.

“Did you say you had fun?” he teases, holding onto my arm. “My God, I never thought I’d hear it.”

I shake my head, smiling. “Hungry?”

He looks me up and down, pure lust in his eyes. “Starving.”

19

Once inside the room,Jayden quickly removes his jeans. “I think I need to shower again. I don’t want you to taste chlorine when you worship my body with your mouth,” he says with a wink.

“That’s a good idea.”

“Together?” he asks with a hopeful tone.

I inhale, knowing what I should say but warring with what I want. “Yeah. Let’s use mine. It’s bigger.”

Marching through the living room, I bypass the bed and go straight for the bathroom, opening the glass door of the shower and turning the water on.

Before I can fully spin back around, Jayden’s there, his body pressing against mine. His hips pin me to the glass wall of the shower, his lips planting kisses from my neck to my collarbone, and across my shoulder. His hands shove my pants and underwear down, and I quickly step out of them, my cock quickly coming to life.

I pull his shirt over his head and he pushes his boxer-briefs down before walking us into the shower, closing the door behind him.

Hot water from the raindrop showerhead pours down both of us, and while Jay runs his hands through my hair, keeping it out of my eyes, I reach down and grab his cock in my right hand.

He hisses with pleasure.

“I guess we should actually clean ourselves first, huh?” he pants.

“I’m just gonna dirty you up, anyway.”

Jay reaches for a washcloth and squirts some body wash on it. “Yeah? With your cum?”

“If that’s what you want.”

He quickly runs the soapy material over his chest, stomach, and arms. “Maybe.”

With another squirt of soap, he starts massaging the cloth into the same spots on my body. “Why maybe?” I ask, hoping my voice isn’t as breathy as it sounds to me.

“Depends on what you’ll do for me.”

He rinses the cloth and puts more soap on it, washing the rest of his body before drizzling more of the liquid in his hand and stroking my cock.

“What do you want?”

“You know.”

I allow my hands to gently caress his body, feeling every powerful muscle. I wish he could understand why. I don’t do certain things because as soon as I think about it, the verbal assault I got for many years hammers its way back into my brain, calling me every slur you can think of, and probably even some you can’t.

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