Page 93 of Hot Mess Express
Bridger and I share a look. I assume they’re talking in code.
There’s no movie. The two want to have some happy time.
“Watch your movie,” I tell them, taking Bridger’s hand as we head for the adjoining door, then stop. “But y’know … maybe keep the moviequieterthan it was last night. Walls are paper thin.”
Juni smiles with giggling eyes. “Maybe adjoining rooms wasn’t the best thought-out plan. Our movie … might get a little loud.”
I snort back a laugh before pulling shut (and locking) the door between our rooms. The moment it closes, it feels like the party—and our very long day—has come to an end.
But unlike the ends of my days in Spruce, which are spent alone on a bed or couch in the dark, Bridger stands next to me.
It feels like he belongs right here.
Next to me at the end of a long day.
Bridger gazing into my eyes, adorable, patient, devoted.
Me, staring right back, nervous for some reason.
Neither of us say anything.
I think we both realized that for the first time since breakfast this morning, we’re alone again.
“Want to take a shower?” he asks me.
I snap out of it. “Yeah, sure, I’ll go in first.”
“I meant together.”
My eyes meet his again.
I don’t need to think about it long. “Yeah. Let’s … do that.”
Bridger comes up to me. He is gentle when he pulls my shirt up over my head. Then he undoes my pants and helps me step out of them. I return the favor, undressing him piece by piece, like a birthday present. It isn’t the most romantic shower, nor is it the prettiest bathroom. But it just goes to show that no matter where you are in the world, it’s never about the place or the suspicious stains in the sheets or the weird cracks in the walls.
It’s about who you’re with.
The guy who treats you like a piece of glass.
And a piece of treasured ass.
Who washes your back under the stream of warm water. And washes your hair, too, his fingers gently combing through, making you fucking crazy with tingles of pleasure.
The guy who kisses you unexpectedly.
Holds your slick, soapy body against his with all the strength in his powerful body.
Who looks into your eyes so deep, he can touch your soul.
Every kiss is a fucking surprise, making me believe I will never get used to how amazing they feel. Every touch of hisfingertips on my sensitive skin, brushing over my nipples, grazing under my arms, sliding down my hips, caressing my ass cheeks and causing me to shiver with pleasure.
“You wanted a repeat of last night?” he whispers in my ear.
“Yes,” I beg him, nearly a whimper.
The wall of the shower gets used to my weight as I press up against it, Bridger behind me, and I feel him teasing me with his fingers, sliding in and out, as he discovers new ways to torture me that leave me gasping with pleasure. The shower can’t contain my moans as Bridger shows me all the ways a man can please another man without even sticking his dick inside. I’m flipped around over and over, my back against the shower wall, and then my stomach, Bridger’s face in front of me, then the wall. His lips are on me, and then his fingertips.
It’s like a dream, each moment more vivid and crazy than the one before, all of them blending together, like a slideshow of every secret desire I’ve always been curious about, but never let myself believe could be mine someday.
