Page 44 of Wicked Scorn
I’ve taken more showers since she appeared at that fucking party than ever before. I’m surprised my skin isn’t chaffed. Jesus, I took one not even two hours ago after practice.
“I need to have some damn self-control,” I mutter to myself, gripping the shower handle like it might anchor me in this steam-filled haze. My expensive shower gel—-some woodsy, musky scent that clings to skin, does nothing to clear my head. Just reminds me of her, how she smells mixed with me. Now, I’m picturing how she’d look with droplets slipping over those curves I’m trying so damn hard not to think about.
I close my eyes, letting the shower’s roar drown out everything else. My hand moves almost unconsciously, seekingrelief and as I touch my cock, I know it’ll pale in comparison to what it would feel like to sink inside her. I’m stroking myself, damn near torturing myself until I’m half-way to forgetting her for the night when the faintest creak of the door gets my attention.
My heart kicks up a notch, and I freeze. No one else should be creeping in here. My head tilts, ears straining, as the sound of soft footsteps creeps over the tile. The smirk that spreads across my face is enough to cause just a bite of pain as it splits my face. It’s her. I know even before I see the silhouette through the frosted glass. None of my brothers are coming into my bathroom, and if they were, it wouldn’t be this quietly.
“Couldn’t stay away, bunny?” My voice cuts through the steam, sarcastic but laced with that damn desire I can’t shake. I can almost feel her hesitation, the tension between us thick enough to choke on.
“Not really…” Her whisper floats to me, tentative but determined. It hangs in the air, a challenge and an invitation all wrapped into one.
“Enjoying the show?” I ask, though I don’t stop what I’m doing. I can’t stop, not now that she’s here, watching. It gives me a thrill, urging me on to finish chasing my release.
“Yes,” she breathes out, and I can hear the smile in her voice—the wicked curve of her lips that promises sin and salvation all at once. I know I should send her away, but hell if I don’t want her right where she is.
I stare at her as I keep stroking myself. My body turned into her view and her eyes are locked in on the movement. Her chest is flushed in her frilly little tank top and heaves as she watches.
Her nipples pebble and it would be so fucking easy to pullthe clear glass door open and tug her to me. I could sit down on the shower bench, and it would be the perfect height for me to latch on and lave each peak through the silk camisole.
I give myself one more tug before I let my dick go and we both watch as it bounces back up against my stomach.
“I think you saw enough, yea?” I ask, swallowing down the urge to mark her right now.
“Maybe you missed something. I could check. Just in case,” she teases back, but there’s an edge to her words, like she’s not really sure what she’s saying or doing. My girl is trying to run without learning how to walk first. It’s cute.
“Like hell I did. You’ve seen everything there is to see tonight.” The words scrape out rougher than I intend. My chest tightens as our eyes lock, and I can feel the weight of her gaze on my wet skin. It burns hotter than the water ever could.
“Everything?” There’s that sass, the one that gets under my skin and wraps around me like ivy.
“Play your games with someone else, bunny. I’m not in the mood, I know damn good and well I told you to get some rest and from where I’m standing, you’re trying to jump headfirst into waters you can’t yet swim in.”
“Could’ve fooled me,” she murmurs, and shit, she’s right. My body betrays me, responding to her proximity without my damn permission.
“Oakley,” I warn, the name feeling like a plea and a reprimand all at once. “Don’t start something you can’t finish.”
“Who says I can’t finish it?” she grumbles.
“Me. I’m saying it. Now get out before—” I cut myself off, because what? Before I lose control? Before I do something we’ll both regret?
“Before what, Jeremiah? Before you show me just howmuch you want me? I’ve got a pretty good idea.” Her voice is soft and yet seductive, wrapping around me, pulling me taut.
“I don’t think I need to show you any more ways to prove to you how much I want you. The evidence is goddamn clear.”
My hand moves of its own accord, slow, deliberate strokes that match the throb of my pulse. I pull the shower door open so there’s nothing between us.
“Since you’re here begging, why don’t you give me a proper show? It’s the very least you could do and baby I now know you love to perform.” The command rolls off my tongue, smooth and heavy with implication.
For a second, she doesn’t move, and I wonder if she’ll balk. But then her hands, trembling slightly, reach for the hem of her top. She pulls it up, inch by agonizing inch, revealing skin that glows like moonlight. Her compliance is silent, but it speaks volumes, echoing in the small space between us.
“Higher, bunny,” I urge, my voice rough with lust as my hand matches the rhythm of my heart—fast, unyielding. She obliges, fabric bunching above her ribs, and the sight of her, so willing, so utterly mine in this moment, tightens something deep inside me.
I can see the soft under swell of her chest and my eyes lift to meet hers, burning my gaze into her skin. I don’t even have to give another command. She knows what to do. What I want from her, as she pulls it up further until her pretty little cherry-tipped breasts are a feast for my eyes.
Steam curls around me, and her compliance is a heady drug, one that sends a bolt of desire straight to my core. “You’re such a good girl,” I say, and my voice is like dark chocolate—rich, smooth, and wicked.
I don’t even guide her with words. It’s like my mind isplaying directly into hers as one hand travels down into the little shorts, and I know as soon as her fingers hit nirvana.
“Fuck…” Her voice is a whisper, strained with need, but all I can offer her is a cruel chuckle. Her saying that word will never fail to make me laugh and make me hard.
