Page 67 of Never Your Girl

“What are you doing in here?” I croak.

“I thought that would be obvious.” There’s a beat of silence. “I’m helping you clean up.”

For just a second or two, the warmth pressed against my back disappears, and with the steam filling the room, I almost wonder if I hallucinated that she was here with me.

Touching me the way I’ve dreamed of for two years.

She returns before rubbing soapy hands up and down my back with measured movements.

Fuck.

Her touch feels so damn good.

No. It’s way better than that.

It’s the exact balm I need.

All the tension from the game and the confrontation with my father gradually dissolves, leaving a clawing need in its place. No one has ever turned me on the way this girl does.

She sparks something deep inside me.

If I’m being completely honest with myself, it’s what scares me most about her.

I can’t help but lean into her touch, my body betraying me even as my mind screams for me to pull away and put some distance between us. Her fingers trace the sculpted lines of my muscles. Her touch sends shivers cascading down my spine despite the scalding water.

“Holland,” I groan, my voice barely audible over the pounding spray. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”

“Shh,” she murmurs, her lips sweeping over my shoulder blade. “Let me take care of you.”

I want to protest, to push her away and maintain the walls I’ve carefully erected around myself where she’s concerned, but the brush of her skin against mine is intoxicating.

Her hands glide downward, fingertips grazing my ass. She soaps the taut muscles before dropping down and running her hands along the backs of my thighs and calves. A groan rumbles up from my chest before echoing off the tile.

I’ve never been taken care of this way.

She straightens, wrapping her arms around my rib cage and pressing a kiss against my spine. Her fingers strum the ridges of my abdomen before sinking to my groin. My breath catches as one hand wraps around my shaft. I’m hard as steel. Her grip tightens as she strokes my cock from the tip to the root and then back again. She repeats the movement until my balls tighten, drawing up against my body.

I sink my teeth into my lower lip, suppressing the sound building in my throat. This girl already has me in the palm of her hand in more ways than one. And there’s a part of me that’s cautious about dropping the last of my barriers.

No matter how fragile they might be.

I’m still not sure if she’s telling me the truth.

Or if I can trust her.

Just when I think I might explode, her touch disappears. Air rushes from my lungs when she cups my balls before massaging them. My head tips back. This time, keeping the pleasure trapped inside is impossible, and a long groan breaks loose from me.

She presses another kiss against my skin. “Do you like that?”

“Fuck yeah.”

“Mmmm. You’re so long and thick.”

“Is that a compliment?”

“Maybe.” Her teeth scrape against my shoulder. “I might have thought about you once or twice after we had sex.”

“You want the truth?” The question is out of my mouth before I can stop it.

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