Page 52 of Unexpected Love
I’m an idiot.
I’m like one of those too-stupid-to-live heroines in a romance novel. The sound of the shower door opening quietly and the snick of it closing is a punctuation mark on the level of fucked up I feel right now.
I flop to my back in his huge bed, covering my face with my hands. This is not me being the smart, in-control woman I’ve made of myself.
This is postdivorce, barely-has-her-shit-together Jules. I fought damn hard to leave her behind, but maybe I didn’t concentrate hard enough on healing all the parts of me that needed healing.
In the silence of the room, I hear water sluicing, the spattering of it against the wall an erotic tease.
I could get up, walk in there, and join him.
He was all in when we were on the bike. And that kiss.Holy shit, that kiss made my toes curl. I slide a hand over my breasts, imagining it’s his touch.
Foolish.
Selfish.
Ridiculous thoughts.
Just get up, you idiot. Go to him.
I whip the blanket off, and I’m striding to the bathroom before I can talk myself out of what my body calls me to do.
He looks over his shoulder at me as the door opens, and I’m frozen in place, all my bravado fleeing the moment I layeyes on him.
All I can see is his excellent ass and his hands lowered in front of him. “You have a good nap?”
I open my mouth, but I can’t speak. Instead, I shake my head.
“See something you like?” His low voice slithers around me, drawing me closer. His arm moves, and his head falls back. “Did you come to see what you do to me?” A low moan escapes as he shifts. I take a step closer, trying to see all of him. He lifts his head and pins me with his gaze.
“How I have to stroke myself every night because I can’t get the thought of you out of my head? Can’t stop imagining the taste of you. Wondering what sounds you’ll make when you explode for me.”
My mouth goes dry, yet I move further into the room. His big hand grips his shaft, sliding over the length, circling the tip, before returning to the dark thatch of curls at his base.
“Jules…” It’s a low, reverent utterance that floats away with the spray of the water.
My eyes shoot to his face. His head is thrown back, eyes closed, and he’s whispering my name as he pumps himself harder.
With shaking hands, I disrobe quickly. He’s still pumping as I step into the shower. I flinch as his hands brush my abdomen, but then he’s pulling me closer, so close that he loses his grip as he presses himself into my stomach, arching and grinding… still saying my name.
He is mesmerizing.
My hands land on his chest, and I trace down over the ripples of his torso until I replace his hands with mine. He cups my jaw, tilting my face up to receive his kiss.
“Fuck,” he moans, then it’s all tongues and teeth and him drinking me in as I stroke him under the steamingwater. He comes with a low growl, releasing all over my belly. Then his hands are on me, smearing the evidence of his desire on me, over me. My arms snake around his neck as he dips his knees, his gaze devouring me.
“Fuck, but you look good covered in my come.” His strong hands run over the curve of my hips and down the length of my thighs as he bends, placing a tender kiss on the soft flesh below my belly button.
“Cal,” I gasp as he stands, taking me with him.
Gripping me under my thighs, he presses me against the cold shower tile and devours my mouth.
The sensual slide of our bodies, the heat of him in contrast to the cold tile at my back. I’m lost in a haze of sensation, and he hasn’t even touched me yet.
I close my eyes against the spray of the water, but he’s towering over me, blocking me from being pummeled in the face. Goosebumps skitter across my skin as his fingers slide up the underside of my thighs, and heat pools between my thighs as the sensual slide changes. He’s gripping me like he’s holding on for dear life.
I arch, needing his fingers to be closer, needing his touch.
