Page 79 of Tempt Me

I’d worn my sexiest sports bra—if any sports bra can be called sexy—the one with cups that didn’t hide my figure. The fasteners in the back meant I didn’t have to struggle out of damp spandex. I flicked open the hooks and tossed the bra on top of my shirt. She stared at my breasts as steam rolled out of the shower around her. I unfastened the buckle of my shorts and slowly drew the zipper down.

I’d forgotten about my canteen, and its weight sank the shorts to the tile floor with a clank.

“Oops,” I said, smiling mischievously.

“Oops,” she echoed. “Leave it.”

Finally, I shimmied out of my cotton panties. Biting my lip, I rotated so that my backside was to her and bent to pick up my clothes. “Where should I put these?”

“In the hamper.” Her voice sounded strained.

I tiptoed to it across the warmed tile, then returned to stand, naked, in front of her. She reached into my hair to pull out the elastic holding my ponytail. I shook my hair out over my shoulders.

She picked up a lock to twirl it between her fingers. “I like your hair.”

“I like yours too.” I reached up to stroke her short, springy curls. “Can I wash it for you?”

“We’ll see. I might not have the patience.”

I pouted. “Will you wash mine then?”

“My curly-girl stuff might not work on your hair.”

“It’s okay. I can wash it again in the morning. I want your hands in my hair.”

“You got it, baby girl. Now, go on in and wash yourself.”

“You’re not coming?”

“I want to watch you.”

If she wanted to watch, I’d put on a show. Slowly, I turned and opened the shower door. I took an exaggerated step inside, which stretched my overworked quads, hamstrings, and glutes. I moved under the rainfall showerhead, turning my face up to it and running my fingers through my hair, slicking the wet strands toward the back of my head.

When I turned to peek at her, she smiled wolfishly. “Wash up, baby girl. I want you all clean when I get in there.”

Grabbing her body wash, I poured some into my hand and lathered it up. I stroked it down my neck, over my shoulders, and down my arms. I rubbed down my belly and my legs while she watched. “Come do my back?” I asked.

“In a minute. You haven’t done your breasts yet. Or between your legs.”

“I was hoping you’d take care of that.” I flashed her my most seductive smile.

“I want to watch you do it.”

I tingled with anticipation. I cupped my breasts and squeezed, thumbing over the nipples.

“Slow down,” she said. “We’ve got all afternoon. Don’t forget the handheld.”

“The handheld?” I spotted it on the wall. Lifting it from its cradle, I switched it on. “Cold!” I squealed as icy droplets hit my skin.

She chuckled. “It’ll warm up.”

After a few seconds, it did. I thumbed my nipple with one hand while I directed the shower wand between my legs. It was nice, but—“Does this have a massage setting?”

When her hand closed over mine, my eyes flew open. Water glistened on her naked skin.

“Want something done right, gotta do it myself,” she muttered. But she didn’t bother repressing her smile.

She flicked the button on the shower wand and it pulsed the way I needed it, a pattern of pressure that felt like a hand between my thighs. She directed it onto my lips, which plumped and opened while my core tightened. My breaths sawed in my chest the same way they’d done on the mountain. Now that I had both hands free, I worked my nipples, gasping at the sensation.

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