Page 97 of Press Play

With a subtle eye roll, I lean against her doorway and trail my eyes over her curves. “No, I mean, why would I showeralone?”

“Weren’t you the one who said shower sex is dry?” she asks, gathering a set of dry lounge wear.

I throw my hands up in defeat, and my eyes follow Wren as she walks into her bathroom. The shower starts, and I count in my head.

One.

I grab the vibrator.

Two.

Don’t mind me, I’m just going to plug this in . . .

Three.

Did she really think I wasn’t going to join her? She’s known me for over ten years, and while I used to be shy, I’m not anymore.

Especially not around her.

I peek around the corner and drop my shirt to the floor. Steam floats through the space, fogging the mirror as my girl hums the song we danced to in the kitchen the other day.

Before Wren, the only sound that filled my space was music or a random TV show I kept on. Now, I can’t imagine not having her around, listening to her sing or seeing her smile. She doesn’t know it yet, but I can’t let her go. I don’t know what her plans are now that we’re together, but this is our home, and the idea of her leaving guts me.

Fumbling with my belt, I place it on the floor and step out of my jeans. The need to be near her is makes me itch.

“How’s it going in there?” I ask, hoping she doesn’t pull the curtain back.

“Good. Did you want to get in next?”

“Yeah, just leave the water running.”

Her hand is on the curtain, and as she pulls it back, I step in with her. The water scorches my back, but I don’t care. All I can focus on is her lips on mine, her full breasts pressed against my chest, and her nipples grazing my skin. I place my hands on her face, guiding her back under the showerhead so she doesn’t get cold.

“I should have known better,” she rasps.

“Was I supposed to resist?” I gently bite her lower lip, and her fingernails dig into my back.

“I was going to joinyouif you did.”

A chuckle vibrates from my chest. “We have so much time to make up for. I’ll never tire of you.”

“I hope not.”

Passion and yearning fill the kiss that follows, but I don’t push it further than that.

“Quédate conmigo.”

“What does that mean?” she murmurs, her voice breaking a little.

“Stay with me.”

If not for water trickling down on us, I’d think time had frozen.

Her eyes sparkle as she looks up at me, and I’d give anything to know what’s running through her head.

Kissing the tip of her nose, I trace her jawline with the pad of my thumb. “Talk to me, baby.”

“You want me to stay?”