Page 267 of Boots, Bucket Lists & Bad Ideas
I can’t help but trace every motion in my mind, each touch of his skin, each drop of water that runs down.
The way the water falls from his shoulders, across his chest, down his stomach—like it’s all a dance between him and the stream, so natural, so intimate, and I have the privilege of watching.
He doesn’t rush. He takes his time, like he’s in no hurry to finish.
I realize I’m holding my breath, waiting for each fluid motion. Then his hands circle his shaft, and I swear my legs almost collapse under me.
“You alright over there?” He grins at me.
Have I said how much I love this grin?
“I’m fine.” I make a scoffing sound. “Are you alright? You’re really taking your sweet time.”
His grin deepens.
“Should I excuse myself while you finish your spiritual journey with the water?”
A deep, gravelly laugh escapes him, low and throaty, sending my heart into overdrive.
“Don’t you move. I’m not done with you.”
“Promises. Promises.”
He quickly washes his hair. Why is watching him so fucking hot? So damn alluring? It’s just soap and water.
Then he’s standing in front of me again, cleaned from head to toe.
“Hi.” That one word is so sultry, my insides flip.
“Hi.”
“I’m gonna taste you now.”
I nod.
“But first.” Slowly, his sudsy hand touches my skin. “I’m going to wash every last inch of you.”
His palms slide over my shoulders, his fingers skimming the edges of my collarbone, sending shivers down my spine.
“How’s that?” he asks.
“Uh-huh.” It’s all I can manage.
His fingers brush the side of my breast. A fleeting touch that sends a jolt of sensation through me.
I bite my lip, suppressing a gasp. I’m not sure why. There’s no one here but us; no reason to hold back. I certainly didn’t in the gazebo. But something about his restraint, his deliberate slowness, makes me want to savor every moment.
His lips touch mine. “Breathe, baby girl.”
I let out my breath.
It’s all I can do when he says things like that and touches me like this.
His touch grows firmer, his palm cupping my breast, his fingers splaying across the soft flesh. I feel the water rolling off my skin, mixing with the heat of his hand, creating a strange, intoxicating contrast.
His thumb finds my nipple, circling it gently, and I can’t hold back the sound this time. A moan escapes before I can stop it. The steam amplifies the sound, wrapping it around us like a secret.
“You like that?” His rough breath tickles my ear.
