Page 56 of Harbor (The Wanderers 3)

It felt good. It felt better than good. She’d never been the sort of person to touch herself. Why not? Mostly because she hadn’t believed anything would come of it. She’d never had a single moment in her life when she felt this craving. The need for whatever this was. Orgasm? Was that what she craved?

She bit her lip as she pinched her nipples, trying not to make a single sound. She would be mortified if someone walked into the bathroom. She hadn’t locked the door. Maybe she should have. But she didn’t want any of the men to feel like she was blocking them or shutting them out. And she knew no one would barge in without knocking and waiting for permission. They barely grazed her skin without asking for permission.

The pressure built, a strange fluttering in her stomach that accompanied the tingling sensation around her pussy. Taking a chance, she slid one hand down between her legs and found the bundle of nerves that clearly needed most of the attention.

She gasped when her fingers slid over the distended bud. Jesus. She reached lower and dragged her fingers through her folds, recognizing her own heated wetness even though she was under the water. When she flicked her clit again, she flinched.

Nerves caused her to remove her fingers and grip the edges of the tub. “My God,” she murmured into the silence. She was afraid to take things further. For one thing, the water was growing cold. For another, she wasn’t sure how long she could remain in this bathroom before someone came to check on her. And lastly, she’d begun to wonder if Dario was right. Might she actually cry out if she managed to make herself come?

After pulling the tub’s stopper, Maya remained seated while it drained, needing to pull herself together. She let the air in the room cool her heated wet skin.

When she finally rose and stepped out of the tub, she was shaking—not from the instability of her leg but from arousal. Would the men notice and think she’d been touching herself in the bathroom?

Oh, who cares?

She wasn’t a wimp. Time to face the music.

With a towel wrapped around her body and her head held high, she opened the bathroom door.

---