33. Lizzy
“No I didn’t thinkyou were going to bite. I just assumed you were probably seeing someone.”
He thought I was in a relationship? “Based on what?”
“Based on how cute you are?” His big, wide shoulders move up and down in a shrug. “You just look like the kind of girl who would be snapped up right away.”
Awww. That’s, like, “The nicest thing any guy have ever said to me.”
I could eat him up.
Not only does he look good enough to eat, with his bumps and bruises and cut—but he’s sweet enough to eat, too.
“I’m not trying to be sweet, I’m just being honest.”
Is this guy capable of bullshitting, even for a second? I’ve never heard a dishonest or patronizing word come out of his mouth—at least, not one that’s been directed at me.
I appreciate it.
Lots of guys will say anything to get inside your pants because they’re not interested in a relationship.
I have no idea if that’s what Brodie wants—and I suspect he has no idea what that is—but at least he’s not trying to mind-fuck me.
My body melts into him; I’m not even a little bit buzzed from the alcohol in the drink he gave me—I’m buzzed from the way he smells and the way he feels and the way his hands have miraculously found their way to my backside.
His massive palms run over my ass and I arch into it like a cat arches its back when it wants to be stroked.
Up my spine his hands go, fingers gently pressing into the vertebra as if he were going to give me a massage.
Down again.
I can feel the warmth of his palms through the fabric of my shirt, his touch leaving a trail of heat in its wake.
My heart races as his hands travel over my backside, turning me on. His fingers move with a practiced gentleness, as if he”s tracing the lines to memorize them and I watch his face as he does it.
His gaze is intense.
Like he can’t believe he has his hands on me.
As if he can’t believe I would let him.
But oh how I want him to touch me…
A magnetic force draws me closer to him, my heart pounding in my chest, drumming with anticipation. And then, without a word he leans in, ending our conversation when his lips inch toward mine.
Our breath mingles.
The space between us shrinks until there”s nothing left.
When his lips finally meet mine, it”s like a spark igniting a wildfire—and I wish he would swallow me whole. I can’t get enough. Lips. Tongue.
I’m breathless.
Brodie’s strong arms wrap around my waist to pull me closer, our kiss deepening, my body humming.
Buzzing.
But just as I”m about to lose myself completely in the warmth of Brodie’s embrace, our peace and quiet and the moment itself—is shattered by the sudden sound of the front door bursting open.
Of course the front door bursts open.
Why wouldn’t it?
Everything with Brodie has been a bit of a challenge, but that’s what happens when you have six roommates between the two of you.
My head turns toward the sound as the boisterous voices of his roommates echo through the house, bouncing off the walls.
They’re about as subtle as a heard of elephants.
Happy.
Loud.
A bit buzzed.
”Where you at you sober little shit?” one of them shouts. “We”re home!”
The words jolt us out of the dreamlike state induced by our kiss.
A cold.
Bucket.
Of water.
I pull away from Brodie, my cheeks flushing at the thought of being caught as I glance toward the entrance to the kitchen, his roommates are already making their way through the living room, to the kitchen, their laughter ringing out like a cacophony of chaos.
”Whoa, sorry to interrupt!” Charlie exclaims, eyes widening in surprise as he catches sight of us standing there, two sets of lips still tingling from the kiss.
Brodie still has his hands wrapped around my waist and my front side is still pressed into him.
“Thank god.” Sully laughs, walking in and pulling open the fridge. “We were starting to wonder that you weren’t human.”
Is he referring to the fact that Brodie doesn’t bring women home and implying they worry he has no sexual feelings? As if it were any of their business…
“I’m super human,” Brodie grumbles, hands rubbing my back.
I like it.
I want to purr like a kitten and snuggle up inside him until he’s so turned on that he wants to snuggle inside me.
Ha.
Sully, now done digging through the fridge for a snack, finally turns and turns his attention on me. “How’s it been, neighbor?”
I nod. “Good. No squirrel.”
“No? That’s good. Wouldn’t want to have to go over and beat his ass.”’
I roll my eyes.
Brodie rolls his eyes.
“I mean, there’s a chance it’s going to eat its way through the wall again, if I’m being honest. And when it does I don’t want to be around.”
Seems there’s nothing that’s going to stop that little monster from tormenting our house.
Jill said she heard scratching in her ceiling, I keep hearing him in my wall. Unless…
He has buddies and there’s an entire village full of furry critters in the walls of our house that we don’t know about?
The horrors.
“Where’d you guys go?” I ask Sully and Charlie—the other roommate clearly has no interest in making small talk, already having disappeared to whatever recesses of the house he lives in.
“Downtown for a bit. Blue’s had a live band and a few of the guys went to listen, but…” Charlie shrugs. “We have a meeting in the morning and if we show up hungover, we’ll get our asses chewed out and that’s not how I want to start my weekend.”
They all nod.
“Looks like the two of you have been cozy.” Sully is eating cold noodles out of a container with a plastic fork—not exactly friendly for the environment, but now isn’t the time to start preaching about being eco-friendly.
“Real cozy.” My chin is tilted up, defying either of them to make a single wise-crack.
Brodie’s roommates exchange knowing looks, their grins widening. It”s painfully obvious that they”re enjoying every moment of this awkward encounter. Still, I’m in no hurry to explain myself to either of these two.
Sully sighs, done with his snack, tossing the container into the sink and wiping his hands on the thigh of his pants.
“Well kids, we’re gonna make ourselves scarce.” He yawns. “See ya in the morning.”
“That was relatively painless,” Brodie mutters at the crown of my head when his roommates walk out of the room.
“Yeah, agree. For whatever reason I thought they would give you more shit?”
He nods. “Because they would normally give me a rash of shit.”
More likely because Sully isn’t a complete ass, as I discovered when I went out with him and has a soft spot for his quiet, broody roommate—and went out of his way to play something of a Hairy Godmother.
“Guess we could go upstairs, too,” Brodie allows, separating himself from my body, the cold woosh of space between us has me wanting to pull him back.
I shiver, feeling the chill to my bones.
“You cold?”
Mmhmm. “For some reason I’m freezing.”
“You want to throw on one of my hoodies when we get upstairs?” He slides an arm around me, then around my waist when we get to the steps, pressed against my back all the way up.
“Is it crazy if I want to take a hot shower?” Here? “Showers always take the chill out of my body.”
It’s facts.
And the thought of taking a shower, getting naked in Brodie’s house—feels really freaking sexy, in my opinion.
I mean, guys’ showers are usually pretty gross but I did give it a lookey-loo last time I was here and it’s not terrible. Someone cleans, though not as well as we do at our place.
“A shower?”
We’re in his bedroom now and I glance around. “Yeah. Do you have a clean towel that doesn’t smell like mildew?” Ha ha.
To my surprise, Brodie goes to his closet to reveal a short stack of towels on the top shelf in his closet, pulls one off the top and gives it a sniff.
“All good. Smells like flowers.”
He hands it to me and I sniff it too. “You actually hide your towels?”
Brodie shrugs. “Wouldn’t you if you lived with four other guys? I don’t know if anyone else even does laundry and I don’t need them taking my shit.” He walks to his desk. “But we do shower a lot at the stadium after practice and shit.”
Makes sense. “Did you shower tonight?”
He nods. “After the game.”
I bow my shoulders, disappointed.
“Truth or dare,” I blurt out, unable to stop my curiosity.
“Truth.” He does not hesitate to not take a dare.
I almost laugh, but I’m kind of nervous, too. “Have you ever showered with anyone?”
Brodie hesitates, then shakes his head. “No.”
I haven’t either. “Have you ever wanted to?”
Is it just me or do I sound demure? Shy, even.
Slowly, he nods.
I raise a brow, clutching the terry cloth towel—which is ginormous and the size of a blanket and will swallow me whole once I’m wrapped up inside it.
“Who hasn’t wanted to get naked in the shower with someone else?”
I’m sure plenty of people don’t want to climb into the shower naked with another person, but I keep that bit to myself, not wanting to debate the topic.
I also don’t want to ask him to join me; I want him to want to join me.
“Do you want to get naked in the shower with someone?” Brodie asks when I don’t respond to his question, practically blurting out the words, face turning bright red as he does it. The tips of his ears are red, too.
Kind of adorable.
I look him up and down. Brazenly, if I don’t say so myself.
“Obviously.”
With that, I leave his bedroom for the second time tonight, turning on the water to warm the shower before taking my clothes off.
I remove everything one by one, folding my pants, shirt, underwear, and bra, and stacking them neatly on the back of the toilet.
Step in to the shower, easing under its spray, letting myself get used to the hot, steady, flow.
“Oh my god, this feels so good.”
My skin stings—in the best way—flesh burning but so good.
I stand with my face tilted back, letting the water sluice down my body, warming me from the outside in, covering me like a warm blanket.
I have to admit; this shower is nicer than ours, the shower head itself way better. Fancier, as if they took out the shitty one landlords typically provide and replaced it with this flat, wide, rain shower head.
It’s magical.
“Ugh…” I groan, body relaxed.
The shower is an insert with a bathtub and a shower, fake tiled and actually decent sized—as if it were built for big dudes. I wonder if the house gets rented to athletes specifically since it seems to be outfitted for someone taller.
Bigger.
Broader.
Certainly not anyone short…
I hear a click.
Listen, fully alert.
Surrounded by steam, I pull the curtain back and peek around it, shocked when the bathroom door opens; I thought I’d locked it so none of Brodie’s roommates would accidentally interrupt my privacy.
Brodie steps in to the bathroom, closing the door behind him.
He locks it.
And he has a towel.
My girly bits positively buzz as I watch him standing by the bathroom door; he hesitates before he begins to undress. Cold air causes me to shiver but I’m not about to give up a free ticket to this front row striptease.
Brodie peels off his shirt with an easy confidence that sends a flutter of anticipation through me, igniting fire in my belly.
Yum…
There was something undeniably sexy about the way he moves whether he know it or not, each of his movements seem deliberate as he sheds his clothes, piece by piece.
Shirt.
Bottoms.
I cannot tear my gaze away as he unbuttons his jeans, the fly undone to reveal the sculpted lines of his abs and that pleasure trail that dips into the waistband.
Even his belly button is freaking sexy.
His flat stomach.
My heart races as he steps out of his pants, leaving him standing before me in nothing but boxers. The sight of him, toned muscles and smooth skin is enough to make my knees weak.
He is about to be completely naked.
I’m seconds away from rubbing my wet boobs all over his chest…
I swallow, mouth suddenly dry when he meets my gaze, a tentative smile playing on his lips. ”Mind if I join you?”
I shake my head yes, unable to find my voice.
“Uh huh.”
I move, making room for him, my pulse quickening when he removes his boxers and steps into the shower behind me, the warm water cascading over us in a torrent of heat and desire.
So warm.
So hot.
Steamy.
Wet.
We stand in silence for a moment, the only sound is the steady rhythm of the water as we take each other in.
Of course we’ve seen each other naked. This is not the first.
But this is different, somehow.
More intimate?
It’s quiet except for the water, and feels a bit…
Naughty.
Steam envelops us as we both stand under the cascading water, our bodies inches apart yet connected by an invisible thread of anticipation.
“Should I wash your back?” he asks.
Without a word he reaches for a bottle of liquid soap, his movements deliberate as he began to lather my back with gentle, circular motions. Up my spine, across my shoulders, down my rib cage, his big hands covering a wide expanse of skin at the same time.
I nod, turning away from him, presenting him with my back; the scrub he uses smells like woods and pine and man but I love it, especially when his hands are gliding over my backside.
I close my eyes, surrendering to the sensation of his touch, and with each caress, I feel myself melting… any reservations I had about him crumbling as I stand in his shower, letting him lather me up and take care of me.
His hands trace another path down my spine, leaving a trail of delightful sensations in their wake as he presses closer, his breath hot against my ear. ”Don’t you think,” he whispers, voice sending shivers down my spine. ”That there”s something intimate about washing someone”s back?”
”Yeah, there is.” My voice is barely above a whisper and I hope that he can hear me because all I can think about right now is his touch.
It feels amazing.
Feels better when his hands dip lower, running over my ass, thumb flirting with my butt crack and I tip my neck forward, head lulling.
Flutters of excitement bubble in my chest; we’re both naked, yet strangely liberated in each other”s presence, comfortable despite being stripped down to nothing.
I spy a bar of soap on a ledge and take it.
With a mischievous glint in my eyes, I turn back toward Brodie, the soap slipping from my grasp.
”Oops,” I demure. “Looks like I dropped something.”
His gaze lingers on me with an intensity that send shivers down my spine, before dropping his gaze down at the soap on the ground. Up into my eyes.
And then without a word, he closes the few inches that were between us, his lips capturing mine in a searing kiss. Almost primal, one of his giant paws on each side of my face as water runs down our bodies; between us, above us, at our feet.
Then,
He moves his hands.
They roam down, tracing my curves, palms cupping my boobs, thumbs toying with my nipples until they’re hard little pebbles straining for more of his touch.
God this feels erotic.
It’s a shower.
Why have I never done this with anyone before, it’s literally so fucking hot and not just because of the water temperature.
I moan against his lips, one hand tangling in his hair as I pull him closer, desperate for more.
The water pounds against us the way I want him to pound into me, a relentless rhythm.
I rub my boobs against him.
My toe hits the bar of soap that I let slip through my fingers, reminding me that I dropped it for a reason...