Chapter 22
TWENTY-TWO
Colton
The water’s too hot. I know it’s too hot, but I don’t adjust it.
I let it pound against my shoulders, my back, turning my skin red while steam fills the bathroom.
I need the heat, the sting. Need something to distract me from the fact that I’m hard as steel just because Jenna Davis kissed me.
Just a peck. Nothing. And here I am, hiding in the shower like a fucking teenager. What the fuck is this?
I press my forehead against the slick tile wall, eyes closed, willing my body to calm down.
It doesn’t.
Her mouth was so soft. And she’d made this tiny sound. Not quite a gasp, something smaller and more surprised. It sent electricity straight through me.
I pulled back immediately and practically ran to my bathroom. I can’t believe I ran from her. From the sudden feelings I got. It was a kiss. I’ve fucked women. Many women. I don’t blush from a kiss. But I did.
And now I’m here. Shower running. Hard as a rock. Thinking about a woman who used to flinch when she saw me in the high school hallways.
I let out a groan, the sound swallowed instantly by the steady rush of water. Thank God. My hand slides down my stomach, hesitating at my navel. Fuck. She’s out there with Livy. This is beyond pathetic.
Papers, rings, separate bedrooms. That’s all this arrangement is supposed to be.
Not... this.
Not me imagining how she’d look with her hair down, spread across my pillows.
Not wondering if she makes that same small sound when she’s really being kissed, really being touched by me.
I noticed immediately that she’s wearing no bra under that shirt.
When I saw her and knew that my hand could easily go under that fucking shirt and touch her bare boobs… my mind went crazy.
“Blyad,” I mutter, the Russian curse familiar on my tongue.
I should really focus on something else. Anything else. Like practice, or the avalanche of bills piling up. But instead, my hand finds its way to my cock, and I bite down on my lip to stifle a groan. How dare she strut around like that, those long, bare legs leading straight to heaven.
Showing me those fucking delicate pink panties.
I stroke myself, hard, and let out another low groan.
Damn, that ass of hers. She stretched beside me, carefree, that oversized shirt rode up just enough to tease me. And fuck… that ass. Those perfectly rounded cheeks practically begged to be cupped. I pick up the pace, pumping myself faster and faster, lost in the scenario I repeat in my head.
It’s been so long since I’ve been with anyone. Custody battles and hockey seasons don’t leave much time for dating. Not that I’d want to bring strange women around Livy anyway. But still, that’s probably all this is—just need.
Yeah. Physical need.
Nothing to do with Jenna specifically.
Except when I close my eyes, it’s her face I see.
The way she looked today, those plump lips. The thirty-two freckles on her face. Yes, I counted them. All of them whenever I got lost in her beauty. Fuck. I squeeze my balls and a shudder runs through me. That kiss felt so good. I wanted to stick my tongue in there so badly.
I pump. I want to kiss her. I pump again. I want to fuck her. Another pump. I want to rip those panties from her ass and drown in her pussy.
God help me, she’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.
My breath catches as I imagine her hands on my cock instead of mine.
Smaller, softer maybe, but just as sure.
I’m close now, water cascading down my chest, my stomach, washing away the evidence of what I’m doing—but not the guilt.
Not the knowledge that this complicates everything.
How am I supposed to pull this off for a year?
A year of living together. A year of pretending.
A year of her sleeping just down the hall—in her bedroom with nothing but those panties.
While I lie awake in mine, remembering the touch of her lips.
A year of playing happy family with Livy, who already adores Jenna.
Her joking around with my kid as she was hers.
And now I can’t stop thinking about her mouth, her hands, the curve of her neck when she bends over paperwork. Can’t stop imagining what she’d feel like under me, around me, what sounds she’d make if I fucked her the right way. How her face will change when she climaxes under me—
My release hits suddenly, intensely, pulled from somewhere deep inside.
I brace my free hand against the tile wall, legs shaking slightly as pleasure rolls through me in waves that feel endless.
I bite down hard on my bottom lip, throwing my head back as I try to keep myself from making any noise.
Shit. This feels so fucking good. How must it feel when I release myself in her wet pussy?
It must be heaven. Another ripple of emotion runs through me.
But the realization hits me way too soon.
I’m not even satisfied and something tells me that I won’t be until my cock fucks her. But I need to forget it. I can’t think like that. I can’t allow myself to lose myself in her deep green eyes. I guess I need to wank as much as I can so I stop being so horny around her.
When it’s over, I stand motionless under the spray, letting the water wash away my sperm. Shame settles in its place.
I’m supposed to be focused on getting the custody of my daughter. On proving to a judge that I’m a good father despite Mira’s claims that I’m too “foreign,” too focused on hockey, too everything that doesn’t fit her perfect American picture. I can’t afford distractions.
And Jenna Davis is nothing if not distracting.
I shut off the water with more force than necessary.
The pipes groan and I silently apologize to them as I reach for a towel.
Steam billows around me as I dry off, avoiding my reflection in the fogged mirror.
I’ll pretend the kiss never happened. I’ll pretend this never happened.
I’ll focus on the case, on Livy, on the million other things more important than the way my skin seems to hum whenever Jenna walks into a room.
This fake marriage is just that—fake. A means to an end.
A way to show stability to a family court system that values appearances above reality.
The fact that I can’t stop thinking about making it real is a problem I’ll have to solve.
But later. First, I need to ask Jenna if she wants to accompany me to Riley’s garden party today.
No pressure at all…