Page 85 of Game Point
Dylan slid the door to her house open, dumping her tennis bag to the side, while I could only shake my head at her messiness. I carried mine through the house, storing it away in the hallway closet as she headed straight up the stairs.
‘I’m going for a shower!’ she shouted, as I continued cleaning up after her, noticing all the things she had abandoned rather than put away. I heard her bedroom door closing, assuming she was going to her ensuite as usual. If there was one thing I was figuring out, it was how messy Dylan was to live with.
My phone buzzed in my pocket and I pulled it out, seeing a phone call from my mum. I answered it, happy to hear from my parents. With the time difference, it hadn’t been very easy to catch up with them.
They put me on speaker as they sat around the breakfast table, and I listened to the two of them with their friendly squabbles and complaints. I told them all about Dylan, the progress we’d been making together on court. As much as I missed them, I found myself feeling more content with my decision to follow Dylan, sure that London wasn’t where I needed to be.
I wasn’t sure where home was for me anymore, maybe after years of travel, and a heartbreak that had left me broken, I was more of a nomad. No one place to call home, but instead people. My family, friends.
When I got off the call thirty minutes later, I headedstraight upstairs, going straight to my room to get ready for a shower. I closed the door, stripping my sweaty clothes off and wrapping my towel around my waist.
I headed towards the bathroom, desperate to wash the sweat away. She was getting faster, more challenging. If I’d let that match go any longer, she would’ve won, and the moment she did, I’d never ever have heard the end of it.
I pushed the door open, steam hitting me in the face as I stepped forward, only to be met with a flash of bare skin, my body colliding with something wet, brunette and … naked?
‘What are you doing?’ Dylan shrieked, grabbing a towel as Itriedto gain enough control of my body to avert my eyes from looking at anything other than hers. Endless soft skin stretched as she moved, her hands reaching out to pull the towel over her body. Memories of running my tongue over her sensitive nipple plagued my mind, remembering how she moaned when I sucked the skin there.
‘Th-th-this ismyshower,’ I stammered, the soft cotton material tucked in, concealing her from view. How I wanted to take a step closer, push her up onto the counter, untuck the towel with my thumb, pull it away so she couldn’t hide from me anymore.
‘I think you’ll find they are bothmy showers.’
‘You normally shower in your ensuite.’ I pointed towards her bedroom as if to help her locate where she normally showered.
She simply raised her shoulders in a shrug. ‘It broke. I told you last night. The shower head won’t stay up.’
My head scrambled, trying to remember her telling me this valuable piece of information, but I was already too distracted by her long legs, by a single bead of water that was running down her throat, meeting the prominent collarbone I’d tracked with my mouth, before rolling further south.
‘How did you break the shower?’
She straightened, my question catching her off guard. ‘I-I …’ She swallowed uncomfortably as a bright tomato redness began to rise to her already flushed cheeks. ‘I moved the head and now it’s not staying up.’
‘That’s weird.’ I studied her further. All the confidence she had when she was telling me off had completely gone, replaced with embarrassment. I’d only seen it a few times with Dylan.
I stepped forward. ‘Do you want me to take a look?’
‘I’d like you to get out,’ she snipped, regaining some of her confident footing.
My eyes narrowed at her. ‘Why were you even touching the shower head to begin with?’ I asked, my brows pushing together with suspicion. She was hiding something, and I wanted to figure it out. Had she fallen down? Slipped and didn’t want to tell me?
‘It doesn’t matter.’ She ground out each word like it caused her irritation to keep discussing it, a clear reluctance across her face. Then she stepped forward to try and leave, but I simply leaned out, my arm finding the doorway as I blocked her exit.
‘I don’t believe you,’ I smirked, still trying to read the answer from her face. The strongest of the blush had faded, but the typical Dylan trademark irritated scowl?That was making a full appearance and I was lapping the experience up. I’d never seen her wound up over something small.
She exhaled heavily, an eyebrow tweaking up. ‘Are you calling me a liar?’
Yes.‘I don’t think you’re telling the truth.’
‘Sometimes I move it so I don’t get my hair wet.’ This time holding my gaze. I was sure there was a pinch of truth to her words. A pinch and nothing more. And then her lips curled into a smirk, any trace of her scowl gone. Instead, this was something twisted.
She stepped closer, her tall height bringing her to my ear. The material of her towel rubbed against my bare chest, reminding me of how little material separated us.
‘Oliver.’ She pulled back to shoot me a strange look, her breath still warm against my neck, despite the hot air. ‘I don’t need to tell you what I do with the shower head. We both know. Youalreadyknow.’
I stepped back out of the bathroom, looking at her face, the confident, cocky smile on her lips. And then it was my turn for my cheeks to burn hot, my dick hardening at the image she had planted in my brain.
Dylan, propped up in her shower, eyes closed, head back, a palm pressed to the glass to keep her up, the shower head between her legs. I still remember the sounds she makes when she comes.
She leaned forward, planting a kiss on my cheek. ‘Enjoy your shower. Might want to make it a cold one.’
