an hour. This is why he needs me in his life. He’s too scatterbrained and distracted to take care of himself.
In the gym I spot a discarded towel thrown over the weight bench and hear the water pounding the wall in the attached shower. I set the water bottle on the bench and open my mouth to tell him he’s welcome and I deserve a raise when I catch a blurry image of him through the glass shower wall.
A breath stutters from my lips.
He’s naked, obviously, in the amazing stone-walled shower. His round ass is visible without obstruction, but the front half of his body is blurred by partially steamed glass.
One of his arms is anchored to the wall, his head down as the spray beats the back of his head. Below the neck is a tantalizing, wavy view of his naked chest and, where the steam is most prevalently blocking my view, I notice his arm moving at a dizzying speed, his hand fisted around his—
I slap my hand over my mouth. I fully intend to dart out of sight behind the wall but remain frozen in place, mesmerized by what he’s doing and how beautiful he looks while doing it. He lets out a grunt I hear over the pounding spray and then tilts his face into the water. Droplets hammer his cheeks. His movements below the waist increase in both speed and ferocity.
My breasts grow heavy, my belly drops, and I become aware of a throbbing heat between my thighs. I spin around to leave—I have no prayer of concentrating now—when I hear him call my name.
Praying he didn’t catch me ogling him during an intensely private moment, I shield my eyes with one hand and call out, “It’s just me. I left your water bottle on the bench!”
No return greeting comes. I peek through my fingers to find his head poking around the stone wall. His hair is dripping, his eyelashes are spiked and wet, his mouth is smiling. His bare shoulder and buff chest are dotted with water. He’s an undeniably sexy sight. I might come in my panties without him touching me.
“Get your ass over here.”
They’re the most erotic words I’ve heard in my life. Helpless, I drift into the steamy room, and when I’m within arm’s reach I say the only thing I can think of. “Did you need a towel?”
“I need a hand. Care to help me out?”
My lashes flutter as I try to process.
“And I don’t mean I want you to wash my back.” That grin again. It’s going to be the death of me. “You get in, you’ll be glad you did. I have some fun planned for you too.”
He steps into the spray again and his, “Hurry up!” echoes off the walls. Before I can reason my way out of what I’m doing, I shakily strip out of my clothes and join him.
Chapter Thirteen
Cris
Arms hiding my breasts, I step deeper into the shower with a completely nude, completely wet, completely buff Benji.
Hard bumps of muscle stretch his taut skin. From his back to his arms to his chest to his abs to his fantastic butt. His legs are strong and long. He has nice feet. I’ve seen them before, but never with the rest of his naked body. It’s an entirely new experience.
“How was your workout?” As icebreakers go, it’s a lame one, but he doesn’t take me to task for my inquiry. He reaches for my hips and tugs me under the warm water. The showerhead is high on the wall. I’ve always loved this shower. I’ve always wanted to use it, but on the days I worked out here, I made sure to do so in the evening and then went straight home to shower. Being naked in Benji’s space seemed awkward before. I don’t feel awkward now, which is unbelievable. Or maybe it’s a testament to how easy it is for him to help me relax.
“It was good. Exhausting. But didn’t keep you off my mind, which is why you saw me in here trying to divest myself of my current…situation.”
I hazard a glance down at his “situation.” His penis is standing straight and proud between us. One word flits through my addled brain: mouthwatering. Granted, I’ve never had a penis in my mouth before, but it wouldn’t take much for me to offer to go down on him. I am not typically plagued with thoughts of blowjobs, but I am curious to learn what he