Steamy Showers and Dangerously Safe Men
Here’s something they don’t tell you about morning-after shower invites: they can lead to conversations that make your heart do more acrobatics than your body did the night before.
Let me explain.
I woke up in Jake’s bed to the delicious ache that comes from a night of him thoroughly proving his point about possession and priorities. My body was littered with reminders of exactly how much he’d liked my newfound assertiveness.
Me
HE LIKED THAT I STOOD UP FOR MYSELF
Megan
On a scale of 1-10 how much did he like it?
Me
ALL THE NUMBERS
Me
ALL OF THEM
Megan
So, I take it the making up went well?
Me
I MAY NEVER WALK NORMALLY AGAIN
Still feeling bold from last night’s conversation, I decided to take initiative. Jake was in the shower. I could hear the water running and spent a few moments appreciating the mental image before padding to the bathroom.
The sight of him under the spray, water coursing over all that inked muscle, was the best sight I’ve ever woken up to.
“Room for one more?”
He turned, and the desire that blazed in his eyes when he saw me standing there was everything . “Always room for you, darlin’.”
His gaze raked down my body, making me feel good about myself. Gone was the self-consciousness that I usually felt with a guy when first dating.
I stepped into the shower, the warm water cascading over us both as his hands came to my hips. But this time, he wasn’t taking charge. I had other ideas. Placing my palms against his chest, I pushed him back against the tiles.
“My turn,” I murmured, letting my hands explore every ridge of muscle.
He growled low in his throat when I pressed a kiss to his chest. “You’re testing my control, sweetheart.”
“Good.” I looked up at him through my lashes. “Maybe I want to see just how far I can push you.”
His hands tightened on my hips. “Show me what you’ve got in mind.”
So, I did. I took my time learning his body, tracing his tattoos with my fingers and then my lips. His breathing grew ragged as I moved lower, exploring every inch of him.
The wrecked sound he made when I finally took him into my mouth went straight to the top of my list of “Top Five Sounds I’ve Ever Heard”. His hand tangled in my wet hair, guiding but not controlling, letting me set the pace. The power I felt in that moment was intoxicating.
“Eden,” he rasped. “Fuck, your mouth . . .”
I hummed in response, and his hips jerked. His restraint was hot and turned me on more than I already was. The way his muscles tensed as he fought to stay still, the harsh breaths that echoed off the shower walls. I loved knowing I could affect him this way.
His hands fisted in my hair harder as he said, “The things you do to me . . .”
I looked up at him, taking him deeper, and watched as his head rested back against the tiles, his expression full pleasure. When I pulled back to run my tongue along him, his whole body shuddered.
“ Eden ,” he warned, his voice barely human.
I took him deep again, sucking and licking, and was rewarded with a string of curses that would’ve made Mrs Primrose faint.
When he finally pulled me up to kiss me, it was with a hunger that showed me again just how much he wanted me. He spun us, pressing me against the tiles while his hand slid between my legs. “My turn,” he said against my cheek.
His fingers found me ready for him, and the sound he made was downright nasty. “So wet for me already.” He slid a finger inside. “Is this what sucking my cock does to you, darlin’? Gets you this turned on?”
I could only gasp in response as he added another finger while his other hand cupped my breast, tweaking my nipple. His fingers playing my body like he owned it had me climbing toward release fast.
“That’s it,” he murmured, curling his fingers just right inside me. “Let me feel you come apart. Show me what I do to you.”
I reached up to grip his neck and pulled his mouth to mine. Our kiss was fierce, hungry, unrestrained. Jake kissed me like he was drowning and I was air, like he needed to consume every gasp and moan.
“Jake,” I cried as his fingers hit that perfect spot again. “I’m going to?—”
“Give it to me,” he demanded while rubbing my clit. “Let me watch you come.”
The orgasm hit me hard, my pussy clenching around his fingers.
Before I could recover, Jake lifted me, pinning me to the tiles. “I need to be inside you. Now.”
“Yes,” I breathed, wrapping my legs around his waist, grateful he already knew I was on birth control and that we’d discussed STI stuff. (Yes, I’m incapable of being chill about anything, including safe sex. He’d answered every question without blinking. I, meanwhile, had prepared follow-ups.)
He entered me in one deep thrust that had us both groaning.
The stretch of him.
The fullness.
Skin to skin for the first time.
Just having him inside me was better than any sex I’d ever had.
“Fuck, you feel good,” he said, starting a rhythm that had me seeing stars. “So tight around me.”
He pounded into me like no man ever had, not even like he had before, and the way he kept hitting the right spot had me racing toward another peak. Each thrust drove me closer, my nails leaving crescents in his shoulders as I held on.
“That’s it, sweetheart,” he said, the husk in his voice just as much a turn on as everything else he was doing. “One more for me. I want to feel you come on my cock.”
His words pushed me over the edge, and I orgasmed.
Jake followed right after, catching my mouth in a rough kiss when he was done. “Christ, darlin’, I like this side of you, too.”
I curved my hand around his neck and stole another kiss before asking, “Which side?”
“This take-charge side who pushes me the fuck against the shower wall.”
“Good because I’m thinking I might do that again tomorrow.”
Those blue eyes of his heated. “Best fuckin’ way to start a day.”
Later, after we were dressed and trading lazy kisses against the kitchen counter, he asked, “What’s your day look like?”
“I have to do some work. I’m writing documentation I know no one will read, but that I need to be perfect or else I’ll die.
” I traced a finger over one of the tattoos on his bicep.
The coiled snake wrapped around a dagger, with a chess pawn randomly inked in there too.
My level of obsession with this tattoo in particular was ridiculous.
Or maybe it was just the muscle it covered that I was obsessed with.
Mind you, I was just as obsessed with the unlocked padlock tattoo on his chest, sitting right over his heart like it wasn’t a metaphor begging to be spiralled over.
“And I have my Saturday lunch call with Mum.”
“That’s a regular thing?”
“Every Saturday unless we have something else on. She’s got it in her calendar as ‘Weekly Debug Session with Eden.’” I smiled at the way his mouth tugged into the beginnings of a grin.
“Yes, I got my need for organisation and love of data analysis from her. She’s got spreadsheets for everything. Dad thinks we’re both adorably nerdy.”
“They’re in Sydney, right?”
“Yeah. Mum’s a high school maths teacher and Dad works in IT. They’re basically the perfect nerdy couple.” I shifted my attention from his tattoo. Or should I say, his arm. “What about you? Besides your mum and the club?”
“I’ve got a sister in Melbourne. Haven’t seen her much since Mum got sick, which I should probably fix—” he dipped his head and stole a kiss before locking gazes with me “—but getting on a plane would mean leaving you, and that’s not high on my to-do list.”
My brain slammed the breaks so hard my thoughts rear-ended each other. Did he just say leaving me wasn’t high on his to-do list?
SIR. That’s not how you casually boyfriend someone.
Also, my uterus just made eye contact with my heart and they’re both panicking.
“Eden.”
His voice pulled me from my internal spiral, and I found him watching me closely.
“You’re thinking too hard again, darlin’.”
“Yeah, well,” I said, gripping my coffee like it might help me play this cool, “you can’t just say things like that and not expect my brain to launch thinking tabs.”
His brows lifted, amused. “Like what?”
“Like that you don’t want to leave.” I waved my hand vaguely in the air. “I’m used to hot guys saying things like ‘I’m not looking for anything serious’ while their tongue is still down my throat, not—” I cut myself off, realising I was spiralling out loud again.
“Not what?” he prompted.
I blew out a breath. “Not...the opposite of that. Not someone who likes all the weird things about me, and doesn’t want me to change, and doesn’t want to...get on a plane and leave me.” I stared at him, heart racing. “I’m not used to guys like you .”
I winced. The words had kept coming because clearly my mouth had fired my brain and gone rogue. “Okay, wow, let’s all pretend I didn’t just blurt that out like a walking trauma blog.”
Jake didn’t speak right away. He just stepped in close and took the coffee mug from my hands like I couldn’t be trusted to hold it while my emotions were heightened.
Then he cupped my jaw, his touch all certainty and care, and made me look at him. “You don’t need to walk it back,” he said. “I heard you. I fucking see you.”
My throat tightened.
“And just so we’re clear, I’m not trying to be like the guys you’re used to,” he went on. “I’m not here to hit and run. I’m not leaving when shit gets real. And I sure as hell don’t want you quiet, sweet, or any less weird than you are. Not that I think you’re weird.”
He paused, eyes searching mine. “I want this version of you. All of it.”
My heart was doing backflips, but my mouth, traitor that it was, chose that moment to whisper, “You know you just made my uterus cry, right?”
He chuckled. “Yeah? Good. Tell her to get used to me.”
Current Status : Trying to write API onboarding documentation for our new session token refresh flow, which is already a nightmare because Johnson keeps “optimising” it mid-sprint without telling anyone.
Anyway, I was supposed to be updating the step-by-step instructions for developers trying to integrate our login system with third-party services.
What I accidentally pasted into the shared Google Doc instead was: He has a snake wrapped around a dagger with a pawn in the middle of his bicep and I want to lick it like it’s a QR code to a secret orgasm dimension.
To be clear, that was meant for my Notes app. Or possibly Megan. Not the engineering team.
KAREN SAW IT.
She left a comment: This quote has been added to the ‘Top 10 Unhinged Things Eden Has Said While Horny’ tab. You’re currently tied with yourself. Also, this is now canon. You’re not allowed to delete it. I will export the doc to PDF and frame it.
I’m dying. Dead. Deceased. I have passed away via spreadsheet-related incident.
I will now be a cautionary tale. Some poor intern is going to onboard next quarter, scroll past Step 2, and assume “lickable biceps” is part of our brand voice.
Do I delete it?
Do I double down and add footnotes?
Do I fake my own death and move to a town with no Wi-Fi?
Unclear. Will circle back once I finish screaming into a pillow.
UPDATE (5:12 p.m.): Jake just called. Told me to “put on something sexy” and said he’s picking me up in an hour.
ONE. HOUR.
WITH NO DESTINATION DETAILS.
How do I dress sexy if I don’t know if we’re going to dinner, to a bar, or to burn down the government together?
Is this leather jacket and Jake-won’t-survive-these-jeans sexy?
Or serial killer adjacent? Do I wear heels or boots?
Lipstick or lip balm? Am I overthinking this or is he secretly testing me? ??
Megan said to “go feral or go home,” but Karen just sent me a link to an article titled “The Psychological Warfare of Vague Date Instructions.”
If this man shows up in a hoodie after sending me into a fashion-based identity crisis, I will make him hurt.
Also, if this ends with a servo meat pie and no sex, I will sue for emotional damage.
Comments: Still Disabled (because Karen WILL start asking questions and I’m not ready)
Share: Only if you add a trigger warning for dangerously safe men who have a thing for awkward, nerdy girls