“I like getting down better.”
“Ugh, do you ever stop?”
“Not if I can help it.”
She was a mess of mixed signals, body melting beneath his kisses even as she was pushing him back. She half sat up. “Do you want first shower or should I?”
“We could share.”
He’d love that. She was always putting her damn clothes back on. Even when she let him get her naked, it was never for long. In the shower, he could touch her all over. Wash her back. Maybe warm her up enough to let him get his hand or his mouth between her thighs.
Or maybe not, considering the look she was giving him.
“What?” he asked. “I hate to waste water, is all.”
“You hate to waste an opportunity to get me undressed.”
“Waste is a sin in all its forms.”
Rolling her eyes, she put her hand right in his face and shoved him away. Apparently, she really meant it this time. She got her legs under her and clambered off the bed, heading toward the bathroom.
“Kate—”
She closed the door behind herself before he could say anything further.
Well, great.
He lay down again on his back, staring up at the ceiling. The light on his phone was blinking, but he didn’t want to deal with any of the shit that could be waiting for him. The people from his father’s company. McConnell, with his casual updates that fulfilled his duties while making it perfectly clear he’d be happy if Rylan stayed away. Or Thomas with his even worse entreaties to return and set things right. His sister. God, Lexie was the worst. He missed her fiercely, but the only thing she could talk about these days was how much he was letting her down.
He was letting them all down, but they could rot. He’d given them enough. Someday maybe they’d understand that. Until then, they could all wait another goddamn day—or another year. He stretched an arm out to flip the screen over so he wouldn’t have to look at the alert.
In the other room, the water for the shower turned on, and he clunked his fist against the headboard. His morning wood had subsided a little, but it wouldn’t take much to get it going again. Just thinking about Kate standing underneath the spray, soap bubbles clinging to her curves . . .
“You coming?”
He startled, sitting up all at once. Somehow, he’d missed the door opening again. And there she stood, leaning against it, invitation written all over her face.
“Hopefully I’m about to be,” he mumbled under his breath.
He tossed the sheets off and launched himself out of bed. A handful of strides, and he was on her, picking her up and spinning her around. When he set her down, it was with one hand coming to cup the back of her neck, pulling her into a long, filthy kiss. She didn’t fight him this time, so he reached for the hem of her top and pushed it up.
“What’s your hurry?” she asked as she let him lift it over her head.
“Told you. Hate to waste water.”
“Uh-huh.”
Her underwear and his followed quickly enough. His erection pressed against the soft skin of her abdomen and he groaned. “Come on,” he said, tugging her toward the shower. “Before I have to eat you out on the countertop.”
“Is that supposed to dissuade me?”
He didn’t even know.
Somehow or other, they managed to get the shower curtain shoved aside. He climbed in, barely letting go of her as he dragged her in after. Around them, the water threw up little licks of steam as it beat down on their skin, and it was perfect.
It got even better when she reached between them and got a hand around his cock.
“Fuck.” He bit down harder on her lip than he’d meant to.
“Okay?” she asked.
“So okay.”
He kissed her and kissed her, curling his hands around her tits. All slippery with water, they fit just right in the palms of his hands, and they pebbled up nice and hard when he stroked her nipples with his thumbs. She made the best little noises, too, and what had been starting to look like a letdown of a morning was positively rosy once she got a good rhythm going.
Letting go of one of her breasts, he felt around blindly behind his back until he connected with a bar of soap. He grabbed it and lathered it up, then wrapped his hand around hers. “A little tighter,” he urged, and fuck, yeah. “That’s right.”
He rocked his hips, fucking into their fists, and with the soap it was all easy and slick. He clutched her close, mouth open against her temple, urging her faster and faster until—
The feeling came all the way from his toes, drawing his balls tight before exploding forward in a rush. He might have blanked out for a second, and his knees wobbled. He threw a hand out to brace himself against the tile.
She laughed as he twitched. He was shockingly sensitive in her grip as she pumped the last of it out of him. When he couldn’t take it anymore, he stilled her wrist, shuddering as she dragged her palm over the head before letting him go. He rubbed his fingers over hers, smoothing the mess away, then caught her face in his hands.
He kissed her, soft and grateful. “What brought that on?”
“You seemed like you needed it.”
Kind of an overstatement, but he wasn’t objecting.
She turned her face away, looking down and kissing his chest. He wrapped her up in his arms and squeezed her tight.
“Can I return the favor?”
She shook her head. “Maybe tonight.”
Disappointing, but not exactly a surprise. Loosening his hold, he pressed his lips to hers. “Definitely tonight.” He paused before he let her go; considering what she’d told him about her sex life before this, he wanted to make sure. “You know you didn’t have to do that, right? Guys can’t actually die of blue balls.”
“I know.” She still wasn’t quite looking at him, but there was a sly smile spreading across her face. A new, different one from any he’d seen on her before. “I wanted to.”
“Okay.” He kissed the top of her head and pulled away.
He set down the bar of soap he’d somehow managed to hold on to through it all and perused the collection of little bottles lining the built-in shelf. When he found one that said shampoo, he picked it up and poured some into his palm.
“Didn’t you bring your own?” she asked.
“Yeah. But this isn’t for me. Turn around.”
She leveled him with a questioning look but did as he’d asked. Her hair was wet enough from the time they’d spent messing around. With gentle hands, he started working the shampoo into it. The slowly forming suds smelled sweet. Not overpowering. Just nice.
“I love your hair,” he said quietly.
She shivered.
He took his time, massaging her scalp, giving her the attention she’d given to him sexually, but in a different way. Taking care of her like this . . . it made something in his heart feel raw.
He dropped his hands and shifted to put his back to the tile. “You can have the water.”
She gave him another, different look, then snuck past him, tilting her head down into the spray.
The water made the soap cascade along her curves, soft white washes of foam caressing pale skin. His body was still ringing with satisfaction, but looking at her made him want to start things all over again.
To distract himself, he plucked his own shampoo off a different shelf. Working it into his hair with brisk efficiency, he turned his mind to other things.
“So I was thinking,” he said.
“Hmm?”
“How do you feel about going to Versailles today?” Girls tended to like all the frilly décor and dresses and things. Not that he took many women there. It was a bit of a trek, after all. But he wouldn’t mind a train ride into the country with her.
She twisted around, grabbing a little bottle of conditioner to work into her hair. “I don’t know.”
He was getting into the idea now, though. He could take her around the castle, then they could grab a nice dinner somewhere outside the city. Get some fresh air. Walk around, hand in hand, like a couple of romantics.