each part of her lips I drank. Her hands dug into me, clung to me like I was going to let her go, and it broke my fucking heart that she might actually think I would do that because of our history.
I wasn’t letting this go.
Her go.
I pressed my palms against hers, interlocking our fingers as I tried to put space between our bodies, but she fought me every way. I laughed against her mouth. “Professional athlete, Mack, nice try, but you’ll lose.”
“We’ll see,” she panted, and then she started sucking on my tongue. I dropped my hands, she walked right into my arms and crushed her mouth aggressively against mine. I was so hard I couldn’t see straight, and her soft body rubbing against me was not making the situation any easier.
“Bad.” I licked a droplet of water off her bottom lip. “Idea.”
“Good idea.”
A frisson of tension spread down my body as I drove my hips against her in search of release.
Her eyes hooded, the slight part of her lips drove me fucking mad as I stepped completely out of her embrace, chest heaving. “I can’t.”
“Nature says otherwise.” She reached for me. I let her because I was weak for her and had been getting progressively weaker where she was concerned.
“Mack.” I bit out her name with a harsh whisper that had my brain telling me how easy it would be to bury myself inside her and take what I’d been wanting since seeing her again.
She dropped her hand, looking crestfallen, from her swollen mouth to her primed, wet body.
I tugged at my hair, then wiped the excess water from my face and took a deep breath, and another, then finally just looked away. “Shower, it was supposed to be a shower.”
“It is a shower.” Her confident, sexy voice was killing me inch by inch. My body was confused as to why it wasn’t already pressed into hers, and my blood throbbed so hard I couldn’t think straight.
“I want . . .” I licked my lips. “No, I need to do this right . . . not in the shower . . .”
Her face lit up. “Does that mean you want me to stop getting wet?” She reached for the knob.
I hung my head and groaned. “You’re going to be the death of me. Stay wet, always stay wet.” I grumbled the last part. “Let’s just . . . wash . . . the Jagger off of you, and then we can go meet your parents.”
She frowned. “How did shower sex go from Jagger to my parents?”
“Easy.” I grabbed some body wash and lathered it up in my hands, then ran it down her shoulders. “I want you smelling like me, not him. And I want to meet the people who gave me you.”
She gulped, and her wide-eyed gaze left mine as if she was afraid to stare too long, afraid to look too hopeful. “Do you really think you should say things like that to me? Might give me the wrong idea.”
“Oh yeah? And what’s that?”
She lifted a shoulder as I ran the soap down her belly. “That you want to keep me.”
I knelt in front of her and pressed my face between her thighs, whispering against her slick, heated skin. “Consider yourself kept.”
When I looked up, her breath was coming out in harsh gasps like she was already that out of control just from the buzz of my mouth.
I gripped the sides of her thighs, dug my fingers into her flesh, and tugged her legs apart.
Her hands fell to my shoulders for balance. “Slade?”
“Mack?” I winked up at her. “Hold on tight.”
“Afraid I’m going to come apart all over your head or something?”
“Afraid?” I repeated. “No, I’m counting on it, in three, two—”
She tasted like she was already mine.
Don’t ask me how I knew it.
But a man doesn’t forget his first taste.
A man doesn’t forget the way a woman responds to his lips, his tongue, the way her body heavily rested against my mouth with each lick. The way she moaned without even realizing she was moaning. The way she braced one hand against my shoulder, the other in my hair, pulling, directing, loving the ride I was taking her on as her thighs quivered.
Steam billowed around us as I cupped her rounded ass and jerked her against my mouth, opening to receive her, ready to drink her dry and stay there forever.
“Yes, that, just like that,” she panted, her body giving out. And I took it