Page 6 of Provoke You

“We can take turns. Don’t worry. I’ll make it quick. I’m not washing my hair. Just need to look sort of freshened up when I leave your place. Where are we exactly?”

“The Garden District.”

“Nice.”

She bent over to run the water, and I stifled a moan. This was a new kind of punishment. “You have one minute.” I leaned against the wall closest to the shower head.

Gripping my forearm with the hand handcuffed to me, she stepped over the tub and drew the shower curtain shut. A second later, her blouse and bra slid up my arm, as if I were a fucking clothesline. My body jerked when she poked her head out, a big grin on.

“I’d invite you in, but I can see you’re a lost cause. I’m starting to think you just don’t know how to have fun.”

“Please hurry.” I pulled the shower curtain between us. Christ. Did she really not know how unbearable this was for me.

“Tell me, Marine, how did you end up in New Orleans?” She pulled gently on the handcuffs, and I fisted my hand.

By the angle, I knew my fingers were just inches from her. She was doing it on purpose, rubbing up and down. How much cleaning could she possibly need there? I closed my eyes, and all I could see was my mouth pressed against her.

“Hello?” She snapped me out of my fantasy.

“How do you know I’m not from here?” My voice was hoarse. I ran a hand against the stubble on my face and into my hair. What would happen if I let go? Just this once. To her, this was a game. A game I very much wanted to play, but then what? How would that conversation with her stepdad go?

Your daughter was in trouble last night, so I brought her back to my place and had my way with her.

“Your accent. Where’s it from?”

I barked out a laugh. “Atlanta.”

“Hmmm” was all she said, though it sounded more like a sexy moan. What was she doing in there?

“It’s been more than a minute.” I stared at the subway tile on the wall, ignoring her discarded skirt and thong on the bathroom rug.

“You must be like the last decent guy left on earth.”

“I’m sure I’m not. Hurry up. I may be decent, but I’m not a saint, Ela.”

“Towel, please.” She shut off the water.

I grabbed a towel off the rack and tossed it over the shower rod. I let my handcuffed hand go limp as she dried herself off, doing one leg first and then the other, taking her time. Drawing a breath, I set a mental timer to fifty minutes.

“I feel so much better.” She drew the shower curtain back, squeezed my shoulder for support, and stepped out wrapped in my towel. Long wet tresses stuck to her back and shoulders.

“I thought you weren’t washing your hair.” I picked up her clothes off the floor and shoved them against the arm loosely holding the towel in place. I couldn’t stand any more of this charade.

“It smelled nasty.” Her feet slapped the cold tile as she made her way to the sink, grabbed my toothbrush, and squeezed toothpaste on it. She moved as if we weren’t handcuffed, and all I could do was try and keep up with her.

She held my gaze as she brushed. Like an idiot, I stood there taking her in. Would I be able to say no to her again if she dropped the towel? As if she had read my thoughts, her hand slipped down to show me more of her cleavage. Her skin looked so smooth and blotchy from being under the hot water. I swallowed and turned away from her.

She mumbled something that sounded like “so marine” before she ran the faucet. When I felt her blouse slide off my arm, I figured it was safe to face her again. Fully dressed, she offered me my own toothbrush. “Your turn.”

There was no way in hell I was getting undressed right now. I took the toothbrush from her, smeared paste on it, and ignored the smirk that spread on her lips when I opened my mouth and started brushing. She looked so young without makeup, with those rosy cheeks and pretty brown eyes. So different from the Ela I met last night. This Ela was fucking irresistible.

I rinsed out my mouth and splashed water on my face and hair. My heart thrashed in my ears when she offered me her towel. I pressed it against my face, fully aware of where it’d been just seconds ago. Forty-five more minutes. I ran the towel through my hair before I hung it on the hook behind the door. The entire time, Ela didn’t bother to look away, enthralled with my every move.

“You ready to go?” I glanced at my watch.

She sighed. “As ready as I’ll ever be, I guess.” She placed her hand on the doorknob. After a second, she turned to face me, and I stepped back. The handcuffs had already rubbed my wrist raw. “One last question. How did my blouse end up with two busted buttons?”

Desire-induced adrenaline shot through me. Her taut nipples pressed against the silky fabric as she leaned against the door and took me with her. I placed my handcuffed hand next to her face to keep my distance, my gaze on her full lips. Her chained wrist dangled in my peripheral vision. Not helping. How much time did I have left?

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