Chapter 20
Chapter Twenty
Wheels
The bathroom was already thick with steam when I stepped inside.
The mirror was fogged over, and the air was heavy and warm.
Goldie had started the shower before I even made it upstairs, and I could hear the water running behind the curtain.
I could also see the vague shape of her moving behind the frosted plastic.
I stripped out of my clothes, leaving them in a careless pile on the floor, and pulled the curtain back.
She was standing under the spray, her head tilted back, eyes closed, water streaming down her face, her throat, tracing paths over her breasts and stomach and thighs. She didn’t open her eyes when I stepped in, but her mouth curved, knowing.
“Took you long enough,” she said, her voice carrying that lazy, satisfied quality that meant she’d been waiting for me.
“Had to make sure we were actually alone.” I stepped under the water with her, the heat of it hitting my chest and shoulders, running down my back in near-scalding ribbons. “The guys know better than to come looking for us, but I still checked the locks.”
She laughed, her eyes opening finally, dark and warm with amusement. “So romantic.”
“I’m a romantic guy.”
“You are,” she said, and the simple agreement, delivered without irony, hit me somewhere unexpected.
She reached for me, her palms sliding up my chest, her thumbs tracing my collarbones, my throat, learning me again even though she’d already memorized every part of me. “You’re just not obvious about it.”
I caught her wrists, turned her hands over, and pressed kisses to her palms. “I brought you coffee in bed this morning.”
“That was romantic.” She stepped closer, close enough that the water hit both of us now, streaming between our bodies, creating a barrier of heat and pressure that somehow made her feel even closer. “This is romantic.”
She kissed me, slow and thorough, her tongue sliding against mine, her body pressing flush against me from chest to thigh. I groaned into her mouth, my hands found her hips, pulling her harder against me, feeling her softness yield to my hardness.
We kissed like that for a long time. Unhurried, with the water pounding down around us, and the steam thickening until I could barely see the edges of the shower.
Her hands moved over me, restless and seeking, tracing my shoulders, back, and ass, pulling me closer still.
My own hands weren’t still either, learning the curve of her waist, the weight of her breasts, and the sensitive hollow of her throat where her pulse beat frantic and fast.
“Wheels,” she breathed against my mouth, and I loved how desperate she already sounded when we’d barely begun.
“Right here,” I murmured back, kissing my way down her jaw, her throat, closing my mouth over the place where her neck met her shoulder, and sucking gently, feeling her shudder against me. “I’ve got you.”
“I know.” She said it like a confession, like a promise as her fingers tangled in my wet hair and held me there, offering more of her throat, more of her skin. “I know you do.”
I turned her around, gentle but firm, my hands guiding her until she was facing the tile.
Her palms flattened against the cool surface.
She went willingly, almost eagerly, and her breath caught as I pressed against her back.
My mouth found her shoulder and spine, kissing my way down the water-slicked line of her.
“You good?” I asked, my voice rough, my hands steadying her hips.
“Better than good.” She looked back at me over her shoulder, her hair dark with water, her eyes heavy-lidded and wanting. “Don’t make me wait.”
I didn’t. I guided myself into her, slow at first, feeling her stretch around me, hot and tight. She gasped, her head dropping forward as her fingers pressed hard against the tile, and I gave her a moment to adjust.
“Move,” she begged, her voice breaking. “Please, Wheels, I need you to move.”
I pulled back and drove into her; the sound lost beneath the shower’s roar. The sensation was overwhelming, and her body was gripping mine like she never wanted to let go. I found a rhythm, steady and deep, my hands firm on her hips, and held her exactly where I needed her.
The water cascaded over us, making every touch electric, and every slide of skin against skin heightened by the heat and the wet.
I watched it run down her back, pool in the hollow of her spine, and trace the curve of her ass where I held her.
I watched myself disappear into her, the sight nearly undoing me.
I had to close my eyes to focus on the feel of her and the sounds she was making.
The way she pushed back to meet every thrust was about to send me over the brink.
“Harder,” she gasped, and I obeyed, my grip tightening as my pace quickened. “Yes, there, right there—”
I adjusted my angle, guided by her voice, and she cried out, the sound echoing off the tiles. Her fingers scrambled to hold on as I kept at it, relentless now, feeling her tighten around me with every stroke.
“Wheels,” she panted, her head dropping between her shoulders, her whole body trembling. “I’m close. I’m so close, don’t stop, please don’t stop—”
“Never,” I growled, the word torn from somewhere deep, primal. “I’ve got you. Let go, Goldie. I’ve got you.”
She came with a shuddering cry as her body seized, clenching around me in waves that dragged me over with her. I buried myself deep, my forehead dropping to her shoulder, my groan lost in the steam and her name, spilled out of me like a prayer, like a promise.
We stayed like that for a moment, both of us shaking with the water still pounding down, now turning cool against my overheated skin.
Then I carefully pulled out and turned her around, gathering her against my chest. She came willingly, boneless and trusting, her arms wrapping around my waist, her face pressed to my throat.
She sighed, her breath warm against my cooling skin. “That was—”
“Yeah,” I agreed, because I didn’t have better words, because nothing I could say would capture what that had been, what she was to me.
I kept touching her, my hands moving in endless circuits, learning the new topography of her, the way she felt after, the way she fit against me.
“It feels like I’ve known you forever,” I said, the words slipping out before I could stop them, before I could consider whether they were too much, too soon.
She laughed, breathless and warm against my chest, her arms tightening around my waist. “We definitely did put the pedal to the metal with this relationship.”
I smiled into her wet hair, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “That happens when you’ve got a bunch of psychos trying to kill you.”
“Is that what this is?” She pulled back enough to look up at me, her eyes soft, her smile easy, no trace of the darkness that had brought us together, only the light we’d found in each other. “Stress bonding?”
“Maybe at first.” I cupped her face, my thumb tracing her cheekbone, the line of her jaw. “Not anymore.”
She held my gaze, something shifting in her expression, something vulnerable and brave. “No,” she agreed quietly. “Not anymore.”
“Your back’s still dirty,” she said eventually, her voice muffled against my skin.
I raised an eyebrow, though she couldn’t see it. “Is it?”
“Filthy.” She pulled back, her eyes sparkling with mischief, and reached for the soap she’d left on the shelf.
“I think you’re just trying to get your hands on me, babe,” I chuckled.
She winked and lathered the soap between her hands. “Maybe, but I don’t really think you’ll complain.”
And complain I did not.