Page 12 of Tough Nut to Crack

"Mmm."

I swear I'm going to hear that sound in my dreams for the rest of my life.

I don't know where the courage comes from, but I chance a look down at him just in time to watch him run the tip of his nose right up the center of me.

"My God," I groan.

"Shower with me," he says as he stands, that thick cock of his once again brushing against my rounded belly as he leans in for another kiss.

"Yes," I answer, a little out of it right now.

He grabs my hand and walks me toward the most luxurious shower I've ever seen.

"When can I move in?" I ask, looking around the thing with wonder.

He freezes, giving my hand a little squeeze before releasing it completely to turn on the water.

"Riley," he says, his face serious when he turns back to face me. "You know what tonight is, right?"

I tilt my head, ready for him to insult me somehow or call this some sort of pity fuck.

"I want to spend hours worshipping your body tonight, but this isn't the start of anything else."

I blink at him. I knew full well when I walked out of the bar tonight that we weren't going to fall in love and spend the rest of our lives raising babies.

Has he lost his mind?

I cackle like a fool at the seriousness in his eyes.

"What's happening right now?" he asks, clearly confused.

"I like your shower," I say, reaching for the knobs of the showerhead on the other side because, of course, the man would have more than one showerhead and those jet things that take care of lower back pains. "I wasn't being serious. It's you who needs to be reminded that this is a one-time thing. Not me. I know exactly what this is."

His head tilts further, and a slow smile spreads across his face as he inches closer. "And why do I need the reminder?"

I shrug as I lift my hair off my neck and twist it into a knot. "You'll become obsessed with me. Not the other way around."

"Saying you got something special?"

"I know I do," I say, hoping he can't read through the false show of bravado. It would only take one look at my trembling hands for him to read me like a damn book.

Instead of pressing his body against mine once again like I so desperately want him to, he grabs his bodywash, lathering it in his hands before rubbing it all over his body.

I reach for the bottle, my hands still shaking, and pour some into my palm.

"That back?" I ask, needing a minute's reprieve without him looking at me.

He turns, his muscles continuing to bunch and ripple when I press my soapy hands to his shoulders before running them over his back. His body is warm and feels like heaven under my palms. I curl my fingers, loving the hiss of sound that rushes out of his mouth when I scrape my nails down his skin.

In the next breath, he spins, his body inching forward as if chasing mine when I take a step back. He looms over me, and it feels like it's almost too much, like no matter what our agreement was, this will leave me with scars that every man who comes after him will question. At the same time, I can't seem to walk away. I don't know that I really want to, considering that the pain may actually be well worth the pleasure he'll make me feel until the sun comes up.

"These tits, Riley," he moans, his lips at my throat, hands full of my breasts.

His mouth lowers, lips trailing a line down my throat and chest until he wraps his hot mouth on the very tip of me. His arm encircles my waist at the same time as if he knows I'll crumble to the shower floor if he doesn’t help me stand.

He pays a lot of attention to one breast, and by the time he moves to the other, I already have that pull right in the center of me that makes itself very well known that this is going to be a night that goes down in the history books.

I expect him to lift his head, press his lips to mine, and urge my leg up onto his hip, but he goes further down, rough hands abrasive on my skin as he lowers to his knees.

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