Page 46 of Sparks Flying

My eyes were closed as I washed my own hair and figured I’d give her a safe space to look all she wanted without embarrassment. That was all I assumed would happen until she reached out and touch me with that damn washcloth.

Waves of pleasure washed through me from her touch, the likes I never knew were possible.

“Bailey,” I warned in a strained voice, because if she continued touching me like this, I wasn’t sure I could control my own desires.

“Just repaying the favor,” she said cheekily.

I had a suspicion that she knew exactly what she was doing to me.

“Now turn around.”

I did as she said and let her wash my back. When she stopped, I turned back to face her.

She looked down and sucked in a sharp breath.

“That looks uncomfortable.”

“It’ll be okay. I’ll take care of it later.”

I didn’t want to embarrass her or anything, but it wasn’t like I could hide the fact that I was attracted to her. The evidence was glaringly obvious between us now.

She went back to washing my stomach, but when she dropped her hand lower and touched me there, I nearly jumped out of my skin. Frozen and not wanting her to stop, I stood there and let her wash me there.

The friction of the washcloth and the way she was moving her hand up and down my length were making me blind with need.

“Bailey, stop.”

She looked up at me, confused.

“It’s clean,” I blurted out.

She was watching me curiously with a look of steel determination in her eyes.

“Tell me what to do.”

I shook my head.

“Dean, you’re my mate. You know I’ve never done anything like this before, so teach me. You said you’d take care of it later. How?”

I meant to tell her no, that it was okay, and a better lesson for another time. But she dropped the washcloth and wrapped her hand around me.

I sucked in a sharp breath.

“Bailey,” I warned.

Instead of backing off, she applied more pressure and pulled her hand back. I thought I was going to bust a nut right there.

“Show me,” she encouraged.

Never taking my eyes off hers, I wrapped my hand around hers and guided it up and down, again and again.

I didn’t know something like this could make me feel so vulnerable. Normally I was a take charge kind of guy and had no problem telling a woman what I wanted. But this time, it was all different. We were connected in a way I didn’t understand.

“Like this?” she asked, and I removed my hand to let her try on her own.

“Yes,” I managed in a strained voice.

“What else?” she asked.

---