Page 30 of My Secret Bandit

With everything done, I sat on the couch while I waited. My sandals hit the floor, and I grabbed the throw draped over one cushion to cover myself as I curled up.

I aimlessly scrolled through my phone.

The idea of his wet, naked body just a staircase away fucked with my focus.

If someone asked me about even one thing I looked at while he showered, I’d be screwed.

When Mateo made his way back to the living room, he took quick, light steps down the staircase. In nothing but a pair of sweatpants, the well-built curves of his chest and torso were on full display. I watched as he moved across the hardwood floor until he hovered above me. His skin glistened, his curls still slightly damp, his expertly carved abs defined even while completely relaxed and that V along his hips. It was enough to drive anyone mad.

“Don’t move,” I told him while I worked on my phone to open the camera.

“What are you doing?” A curious smile played on his lips.

“Taking a picture.”

“Get my good side.” With a wink, he turned his cheek.

I scoffed. “Like I’ve found a bad one yet. But this….” My fingers smoothed down his torso, leaving goosebumps in their wake. “I’ll definitely need proof that I didn’t dream this up.”

He played the perfect model for two pictures. One with his every day, bigger-than-life smile and the other was sultry and seductive, reserved only for me.

“Did you get the shot you wanted?”

When I nodded, he tossed my phone a few cushions over. Wrapped somewhere in the rumbled mess of the discarded throw.

“Good.”

Hanging just above me now, I lay back to look up at him. His breath tickled my heated skin. With arms caging me, he lowered, letting his lips leave a whisper of fire over mine. His tongue swept out and I parted them, inviting him in.

His fingers gently twisted in my hair as his mouth grew heavier over mine. We moved in sync, tongues caressing, hands massaging. The fresh scent of whatever soap he used combined with the subtly sweet taste of him, intoxicated me the way no brand of alcohol ever would.

I curved my palm around his neck. Pulling him closer, giving in to an instinctive need to feel the weight of his body on mine.

With our bodies pressed together, my hands skated across his back. The tips of my fingers moved, memorizing every striation of muscle, every dip they created as his body gently ground against mine. They inched lower, teasing the waistband of his pants. The beginning curve of his ass, so firm and smooth, was just as heavenly as the rest of him. I squeezed slightly, letting my digits dig into the top of his cheek. A deep, throaty groan left him as he pulled his lips from mine, moving lower. His teeth grazed against the sensitive space on my neck, filling me with a rush of electricity that didn’t stop until it hit my toes.

The moan that left me echoed in the space around us. I pushed his chest away with a whimper.

“We can’t do this,” I said, my breath coming out in pants.

“I know. It’s just so hard to control myself around you.”

I knew exactly how he felt. I currently called on every bit of self-control to not glance toward the one part of him I craved the most right now. The part of him that grew hard and pressed firm against me.

“First time I’ve heard that,” I joked.

“But not the last,” he responded with a wink and a quick kiss to the tip of my nose before he helped me off the couch. Interlocking our fingers, I pulled him to the kitchen.

He pulled out my chair before going to the refrigerator and coming back with a bottle of wine and two glasses.

“Thank you.”

“Anything for you, Jameson.”

We ate in silence. The sexual tension growing too large to ignore. Remembering that my best friend told me to be brave, I buckled down and hoped to restore the balance.

“We need a plan.”

He looked up from his plate with an amused look. “Plan for what?”

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