her breasts, and then there is Quinn, squeezing the loofah on her skin.
“Jesus,” I huff a breath and lean back to try to focus on anything else. I’m not having naked fantasies of Quinn, no. I can’t even imagine her naked, but I think about her hands sliding down Gabriella.
Listen, I’m just like every other man. While some guys might not like the idea of two girls, I do. I am the typical dude right now, and I am about to go out of my mind. I want to peek in there to see what is going on.
What if Quinn is touching her?
“Oh, you’re being fucking ridiculous,” I huff to myself, chew on my thumbnail, and look at the door again. My leg shakes still. The sexual deprived man I’ve oppressed for the last … my god. I can’t even remember the last time I got laid. It had to have been before prison. He nudges the back of my mind and tells me to go look inside my room to see if the girls are getting busy.
I readjust my erection and stand, taking a deep breath, and I hurry down the hall toward the kitchen. I need a drink. I grab a beer from the fridge and close the door, then I think better of it and grab a few more, then carry them to the reading room.
Right as I sit, Quinn comes out of the bedroom. Her cheeks are flushed, and she wipes her forehead as if she just had a strenuous workout.
Jesus, Sebastian, get your shit together.
“Your shower gets so hot, Sebastian.”
I lift my brows and choke on my drink. “Hmm?”
She points over her shoulder. “Your shower. The temperature on the hot water is scorching. I don’t know how you deal with it.”
Oh, I thought she had said something completely different.
“I like my water hot,” I choke out, guzzling an ice-cold beer down my throat.
“Well, she’s asking for you. I’m going to see Jaxon. Whew, I’m sweating. You really need to have that looked at, Sebastian. She could faint in there.”
Quinn bringing up Gabriella’s safety has all the dirty thoughts disappearing from my head, and I bolt forward and crash through my bedroom door to see Gabriella stepping out of the bathroom. Tendrils of steam follow her like fog. She has a skimpy white towel wrapped around her chest, and she is towel drying her hair. The wet locks fall over her shoulders, sticking to her tan skin. I see the brief small crisscross of scars over her chest, but I still think she is the prettiest, sexiest woman I’ve ever laid my eyes on.
“Sebastian, is everything okay?” Her fucking brown doe eyes are wide as the moon, and I want to bend down and kiss her so bad.
I set the beer down on the nightstand and try not to look at her, I really do, but that towel comes to her mid-thigh, and her breasts are pushed together in the towel. She is every man’s fucking fantasy. Kendrick is an idiot, and I am glad for it because this woman is mine.
“Sebastian, you’re worrying me.”
“Quinn said you were asking for me?” I manage to pry my damn tongue from the roof of my mouth and stare at the ceiling so I won’t check her out. She probably thinks I’m a creep or something. After everything she has been through, I’m fucking hot for her.
No, needy.
Yeah, I am fucking needy for her.
Any guy who loves a girl is needy for them, and if they say they aren't, well … they are fucking liars or assholes or both.
“Is everything okay? Something wrong with your ceiling?” she asks, stepping closer to me and my bodywash wafts over to me. I didn’t think it was possible for a manly scented soap to arouse me, but coming from her? Knowing it is my soap on her skin? Yeah, I can barely contain myself
“No, nothing at all.”
Her hand lands on my chest and my eyes fall from the ceiling to hers. Her lashes are still wet from the shower, and the energy between us shifts. The air is sucked out of the room, and she licks her plump, dark pink lips, and steps closer to me, filling the gap between us.
I close my eyes and begin to count to ten, something I do when I try to gain control of myself, but I can’t count to ten, not with her in my space and her hand against my chest. Each stroke of