Page 50 of The Playmaker

My hair is still a sticky mess as we walk to the car and drive back to Cole’s place. I park and we make our way inside. Cole sets the locks and hurries me up the stairs to his big master bathroom.

“I can’t believe you got paint in my hair,” I say as he turns the water on and adjusts the spray.

He grins. “I was aiming for your shirt so you’d have to take it off. One way or another, I was getting you out of these clothes,” he says and step up to me. His knuckles brush my sides and he tugs my T-shirt free.

Completely comfortable in my skin around him, despite my barely there curves and breasts, I lift my arms so he can remove my shirt with ease. He tosses it to the floor and steps back. Green eyes flash with raw hunger.

And right there—that look on his face is the reason I have no inhibitions around him. No man has ever looked at me like that before.

“Out of those jeans, now,” he finally says.

I pop the button and turn from him, showcasing my ass as I slowly, teasingly slide my pants down my legs. Wow, when did I ever become so bold? Sure, I write about things like this, but never practiced the moves in real life—except for that time that jerk reenacted the scene from my story. But Cole is not that jerk, and I like the way he looks at me, like a man who hasn’t had a meal in a long time, and I’m an all-you-can-eat buffet.

I kick my pants away and turn, standing before him in my bra and panties.

“Jesus fuck, you are sexy,” he mumbles, and brushes his hand over his chin. The scruff on his chin makes a soft chafing noise, and I shiver. How will that feel, abrading my skin? Damned if I can’t wait to find out.

I point to him. “You’re overdressed.”

He makes quick work of his clothes, dropping a condom onto the counter before he steps into the huge shower. I look at all the jets and the rain-shower nozzle above us.

“We really do have a water theme going, don’t we?” he says, his voice rough, raspy as he steps up behind me, his hard cock pressing into the small of my back. I gasp a little, and wiggle my ass.

“Stop poking the bear, Nina, or I’ll never get this paint off you.”

I secretly smile, and Cole grabs his shampoo. He pours a generous amount into his palm and starts washing my hair. I reach up to help, not used to anyone taking care of me, and he swats my hands away.

“I’ve got this,” he says. “I’m the one who

did this to you.”

I relax under his touch and just enjoy the feel of his hands on me. He finishes washing my hair and positions me under the rain-shower nozzle. It falls gently over my body and washes away the shampoo. I’m about to do his hair when he lathers his hands and runs them over my body. He spends a few extra seconds on my nipples, and they grow hard from his ministrations.

“I don’t remember you getting any paint there,” I say.

“You never can be sure. I’m just exercising caution.”

“It’s good to exercise caution,” I moan and arch into him, blatantly letting him know how much I like what he’s doing. His soft chuckle curls around me.

“I wonder where else I should check,” he says, his deep voice rumbling through me as he turns me around, until my back is pressed against his chest.

I widen my legs, giving him full access to my body. “Everywhere.”

His breathing becomes harsher against my neck, and his cock throbs against my back. I wiggle to make him crazy and he gives a breathy groan, his fingers trekking downward in a slow-ass seduction that’s making me insane.

“Are you thinking here?” he asks as he parts my folds. He lightly runs his fingers around my clit, torturing me with things to come, and I moan.

I wiggle some more, desperate for him to touch me already. “Yes, definitely there.”

He urges me forward with his knees, and when I reach the back of the shower stall, he takes both of my hands and presses them against the grey tile. “Keep your hands there,” he growls.

“Cole…” With my ass to him, I’m spread wide open, his for the taking. Never in my life have I felt so exposed. I’m not sure I could do this with someone else but with him, and I love it.

He pushes my wet hair from my shoulders and runs calloused fingers down my back, until he reaches my ass.

“This ass,” he says, and kneads my cheeks like dough. “I’ve wanted to squeeze it all night.”

“Oh, God…”

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