Page 13 of Just Screwing Around

He stepped away to go shower, I assumed, and I finished making dinner on auto pilot. We had gotten into a routine where I cooked dinner since I was home first, and he cleaned up after. Apparently, he also bought groceries and tortured me about using his hands and histoolto replace my vibrator.

Unless that isn’t what he meant?

No. It had to be.

No one talked that seductively about home repair, right?

I debated texting Kim to ask her thoughts, but knew I didn’t have time.

Just as I was loading our plates with food, Nick reappeared from his room.

Shirtless.

His hair was wet and sending the odd drop of water sliding down into the valley between his pecs. Jesus Christ and Julia Child, he was fucking mouthwatering.

Note to self: if I ever want to get in shape, drop the spatula and pick up a hammer. A body builder he was not, but he was thick and muscular with a dusting of dark chest hair that created an enticing arrow pointing to the aforementioned tool. He ran a hand through his hair, shaking off the excess water before grabbing napkins and cutlery.

He proceeded to set the table as if he wasn’t violating every law against torture by displaying all that bare skin. I guessed this was what I got for draping my panties around the house like party decorations.

“Ready to eat?” he asked, blinking innocently at me as I wiped the drool from my chin.

Now there was a loaded question if I ever heard one. He knew exactly what he was doing.

“Yep.” I plunked down into my chair. “Better eat quickly, though. I need a shower before bed. If you want to put a stop to the vibration, we might need some extra time.”

He froze with his fork halfway to his mouth.

Did he really think we were just teasing? That I wasn’t planning to put all my middle aged hormones to good use and wear his dick out?

He ate his meal as if there was a large animal chasing him, then moved to the kitchen and started cleaning up.

I was done with the verbal foreplay. “Well, I am going to go take that shower. I’ll leave the door open in case you hear that buzzing sound again. Might have to put that tool of yours to good use.”

I didn’t turn back to see if he was watching me. I was on a mission. I grabbed my toothbrush and gave my teeth a quick once over before turning the shower on. Luckily, twenty-something Charlotte was irresponsible with money, so I’d had laser hair removal. I still had to shave sometimes, but I could skip it now and not have my legs feel like velcro.

I yanked my hair out of its messy bun and dragged a brush through it. Again, not going for perfection, just hoping to tamper down the swamp-witch look I was rocking after a day in a hot kitchen.

I started stripping as fast as I could without tripping and breaking something. I tossed my tank and leggings into the hamper then paused over my bra and undies. They were a matching set in a gorgeous bright blue. I’d been teasing Nick with my lingerie since I’d moved in… should I drape these over the edge of the hamper? Or toss them on the counter? It is one thing to do that with clean undies but dirty ones? Do guys like that? Or is that just a thing from romance novels and porn?

I heard the beep of the dishwasher turning on and tossed everything in the hamper before scampering under the warm spray. I had just enough time to wash my face before I heard his steps enter the bathroom. I pushed the curtain back enough to peak out. His bare chest was flushed a little red and his eyes were dark and hooded. His breath was coming fast like he’d sprinted in here and the front of his jeans showed an impressive bulge.

“Are you coming in?” I asked, hoping my voice didn’t reflect the nerves that were starting to set in. I closed the curtain again and hid – er, waited. I’d been teasing him with lace and silk but all I had now was me. Thirty-eight years old, thicker than I was in high school and desperate for him to see me independent of my idiot brother.

The scratch of a lowering zipper pulled me out of my head and I strained to hear. The swish of denim, the light thump of fabric hitting the floor then the curtain was moving, and I didn’t think I could breathe. He stepped one leg into the shower. Any doubt I had about whether he wanted me evaporated when I saw how hard he was. I turned to face him, the water pelting down on my back.

There was a moment of hesitation. On my part or his or both, I wasn’t sure but then we were both moving. His callused hands landed on my hips, slipping around to my ass and my mouth was on his.

He was all soft lips and rough stubble. His velvety tongue massaged mine while his strong hands dug into my curves. His body radiated heat as mine shivered under his touch. He turned us so my back was to the cold tile. The smooth skin of his cock was resting against my stomach while my breasts pillowed against his chest. I was all hands and lips, touching every part of him I could reach.

His hands slid up until he was holding my face, then he pulled back. “Fuck. I thought this would be weird. But it’s not,” he said, his breath coming in rapid pants.

I took the opportunity to catch my breath too, my hand sliding through his chest hair and stopping at his pecs.

“Why would it?” I was crossing my fingers that what he said next didn’t make me hate him.

I really wanted to get laid.

“Well, it’s you. It’s me. It’s us. I’ve always thought of you as Derek’s sister.” He rested his forehead against mine as he spoke.

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