lifts meant Tess Dunn got that dazed look on her sweet face and kept staring at his ass with the sort of longing usually reserved for, say, the crown jewels, he’d do thousands more of them. Millions.
“You have that line,” she whispered. “I didn’t know that was possible in real life.”
He frowned, confused. “What line?”
“I mean, your cock is impressive too, which I kind of expected. But this…” She touched a spot above his hip, then traced a path down and to the center, just short of where his dick was eager to meet her touch. “Wow.”
“That?” Her finger lingered, and he attempted to keep breathing. “My physio called it the iliac furrow.”
“And those dimples on your ass…” She caressed a spot on each cheek. “I want to bite them later. Is that okay?”
Red alert. Time to deploy baseball statistics. Like numbers of home runs or strikeouts or touchdowns or field goals or—
Wait, he didn’t know any baseball statistics. He didn’t even watch baseball.
Shit.
“Uh…” Deep breaths. Those might work. “Yeah. Please.”
“Really?” Her face brightened to near-incandescence. “In that case, hurry up. Let’s get me naked.”
Thank Christ.
Before anything could delay him further, he yanked those damn leggings down as she obligingly lifted each foot in turn. Within the next heartbeat, he’d whipped off her panties too.
Someday, he’d take his time appreciating the sight of her in her underwear, but not tonight. Not while he was awash with this sort of desperation.
He clambered to his feet, but didn’t let himself stare until he’d reached into the shower and turned on the water. Then, as it began to heat, he clasped her upper arms and gave a gentle squeeze. “Hold still, älskling. I want to take a good look at you.”
Her body was lush and round, not a straight line to be seen. He skimmed a palm over the curve of her belly, the swell of her hip, the abundance of her dimpled ass.
He understood her desire to bite, in a way he hadn’t mere moments ago. More than that, though, he wanted to sink into her and never emerge.
The shower was steaming now. So was he.
He raised his gaze to hers, and she wasn’t quite smiling. But her eyes were soft and warm and direct. Not shy or, God forbid, ashamed.
“Let’s get in the shower.” He opened the door, stroking a hand down her bare back as he ushered her inside. “If it’s too hot or too cold for you, just turn the handle.”
He squeezed in beside her, and they stood naked, only a bare centimeter away from one another. The water streamed over her shoulders and down the extravagant arcs of her body, the rivulets gleaming in the light overhead. Her hair turned inky beneath the flood, a rosy flush blooming on her pale skin at the heat of the spray.
“I love how you have dimples everywhere. Here.” She rose up on tiptoes and pressed a kiss to both his cheeks. “Your butt, of course. Even your knees, kind of.”
He glanced down. “Those are just my kneecaps. They’re knobby.”
“They’re perfect, so hush.” She shook a disapproving finger at him. When he caught it in his mouth, her breathing hitched. “None of that until we’re clean, mister.”
They took turns washing each other. She went first, soaping her hands and gliding them over his skin, leaving slippery trails along his arms and inner thighs and across his belly. Then she was sliding her hand up and down his cock and cupping his testicles, and the bubbles tickled while his flesh tightened and surged beneath her attention.
Much more of that, and they’d be done before they began.
“Enough,” he told her, and gently moved her aside so he could quickly shampoo his hair, finish soaping himself, and rinse away all the suds.
Her lower lip poked out a tad, and he could see for a moment the sulky teenager she might once have been. But she sounded more amused than disgruntled when she spoke. “I’d just gotten to the good bits, spoilsport.”
There. He was clean, and now it was her turn.
“Oh, the good bits are still coming.” He winked at her. “So to speak.”
A handful of his shampoo later, and he was tunneling his fingers through her hair, letting them massage her scalp as he worked up some lather. “Does this feel good?”
He interpreted her inarticulate mumble as a yes. Tilting her head back, he supported her neck with his palm as he rinsed away the shampoo beneath the spray.
When he was done, her eyes blinked