23. Dove #2
He only squeezed me tighter and drawled, “My little environmentalist.”
The nerves that had plagued me all day thrummed into life full force as he held the door open for me as we made our way inside.
I forced my hand to stop trembling as I chucked my empty beer bottle into the recycling bin in the kitchen before following Josh up the stairs, my heartbeat skipping with each step.
I forced my breathing to remain steady as Josh opened the bathroom door and flicked on the light.
I forced myself not to panic as he took out towels from the linen closet and placed them on the counter.
“Dove, hey,” came Josh’s pacifying voice, breaking my concentration to not panic .
Turning to him automatically, my wide, anxious eyes met his before I could force myself to look some semblance of calm and collected, which caused his face to twist with an expression of concern.
“We don’t have to shower together if you don’t want?—”
“I do!” I interrupted, a little too loud. I winced, lowering my voice as I admitted, “I just don’t want to disappoint you.”
His eyebrows drew together. “Disappoint me?”
“I know it’s stupid.” I kept my gaze glued to the floor, stomach roiling with nerves.
I didn’t know how to explain it. That damn butterfly that lived in my stomach was threatening to fly up my throat, and my heart was pounding so hard I feared it would escape my chest and fall right at Josh’s feet.
An overreaction for sure, but I’d never done anything like this before.
Never exposed myself to this degree, especially with someone who looked like Josh .
He was chiseled like a Greek god statue, and I’d seen who he was interested in.
Our body types couldn’t be more different.
“I don’t think it’s stupid.” He stepped closer, nudging my chin up with a finger until I was looking at him. “I just don’t think it’s warranted. Why do you think I’ll be disappointed? I want to know.”
I shook my head, muttering, “It’s nothing. Forget I said anything.”
“It’s not nothing if it’s brothering you.” He leaned over to turn the tap on the shower, and the water sprung to life. “We have a few minutes until the water gets hot. I’m all ears.”
The words caught in my throat. His thumb stroking along my jaw wasn’t helping.
I turned away from him, fiddling with the button on my shorts, contemplating.
Did I admit that even though I’d been halfway naked, sprawled on Josh’s truck, I still felt self-conscious about my body?
“I don’t look like Stella.” I began unbuttoning my shorts, then stopped. What else was there to say? That was pretty much the gist of it. Anything else had the potential to sound jealous.
I probably don’t look like any of the other girls you dated while gone, either.
I’d come to accept my body a long time ago, but for someone reason, I couldn’t help but compare myself to them.
To wonder if Josh was disappointed I was softer, curvier, bigger than Stella and the other girls that use to try and catch his eye back in high school.
I likely looked nothing like the mysterious women he undoubtedly dated the years he was gone.
Warmth spread along my back as Josh crowded me, his large hands gripping my waist and walking me forward until I was pinned to the sink by his hips. When I looked up, his eyes fiercely met mine through the mirror.
“No, you don’t.”
The truth of his words was like an ice pick straight to my heart. Ouch.
“But I don’t want you to look like Stella,” he stated, voice sharp. “I love how you look, Dove.” His hands slid over my hips to follow the curve of my stomach, fingers flirting with my waistband.
“I love your curves,” he breathed into the back of my neck as his touch inched under my shirt and traveled higher, coaxing goosebumps to rise across my skin as the rough pads of his fingertips skimmed up until they cupped my breasts through my bra.
Large hands, big enough to cradle my modest chest, squeezed just hard enough to have my breath catching and my eyes fluttering closed involuntary at the sensation.
“You don’t ever have to worry about what you look like, baby,” he whispered vehemently into my skin. “Because I love every single thing about you.”
He pressed closer until the sincerity of his words were proven true by the hard ridge of his dick pressing against the small of my back.
Josh nuzzled my hair, inhaling, and I felt more than saw his full body shudder.
“Don’t ever doubt how much you turn me the fuck on.
” His voice was a thick, husky rasp in my ear, raising goosebumps across my flesh.
Just like that, the warmth along my back was gone, Josh was gone, his hands sliding out from under my shirt. He pressed a lingering kiss to my neck, leaving the patch of skin tingly and hot in the wake of his soft touch.
“Now I’m going to hop in the shower before the water runs cold,” he said, voice sounding normal, like he hadn’t just groped me against the countertop. “Join me if you want. If not, I’ll make sure to save you some hot water.”
My fingers curled around the curve of the sink as he turned to get undressed.
As if my eyes were a missile and he was my target, I watched him with laser focus through the mirror.
First thing to go was his shirt, which he reached up to grab at the collar and pull off in one go.
His back was broad and defined, smooth and utterly tempting.
The curve of his spine made my mouth water, and the dimples that rested just above his belt made me want to go over there and bite them.
Instead, pain bloomed along my bottom lip as my teeth bit into it, the back of his neck likely prickling with the intensity of my stare, but I couldn’t stop myself.
He was the human equivalent of a beautiful car wreck, the kind you couldn’t help but rubberneck at as you passed by because you just had to see.
He persisted, clearly unbothered by the show he was putting on.
Knowing Josh, he was enjoying my gawking.
Although I couldn’t see his face, it wasn’t hard to imagine the smug smirk fixed on it.
My thoughts were interrupted by the zipper of his jeans unfastening, loud over the sound of rushing water, louder still over the rushing in my ears. My mouth ran dry as he dropped them along with his boxers, and I was left with so much skin to look at my brain nearly short circuited.
I hadn’t realized I closed my eyes until I heard the shower curtain pull back as he hopped in. Water splashed as it hit his body, and I waited. Waited for him to beckon me to join him, to call out for me.
He didn’t. This was well and truly my choice.
My fingers ached from where I was still gripping the sink with an iron hold.
I flexed them as I reached for the hem of my shirt.
Blinded momentarily by the tangle of my hair as I tugged it off, I pushed the tousled mess out of my face as my shirt joined Josh’s on the floor.
Hesitating briefly, my fingers hovered at the top of my shorts until they, too, were off and shoved down my legs—another addition to the growing pile of clothes.
Standing in only my bra and underwear in the growing humidity of the bathroom, I didn’t feel quite as exposed as I thought I would.
Instead, something inside me urged me to hurry up, because I was starting to itch from the sweat and grim coating my skin, and I knew how quick the hot water ran out.
Plus, as much as I was self-conscious about Josh seeing me in all my glory, I totally wanted to see him in his.
Seconds later, the last of my clothes were shed and I was pulling back the curtain and shoving myself under the spray.
Warm water cascaded down my body, soaking my hair into wet strands that hung heavy around my shoulders.
Blinking water from my eyes, Josh’s smirk came into focus.
He didn’t have to say anything for me to know exactly what he was thinking.
“Shut up,” I grumbled, knowing I proved him right by joining despite my reluctance.
He probably didn’t doubt for a minute that I would, even with the out he freely gave me.
Josh knew me better than I knew myself at times, years apart or not, and although I could second guess with the best of them, he knew I wasn’t one to turn tail and run.
“I didn’t say anything,” he declared innocently, smiling to himself as he brushed his wet hair back.
His arm skimmed over my shoulder as he reached behind me to the shower caddy installed into the corner of the wall.
The slide of our bare skin had my nipples tingling, hardening into obvious points that had me itching to cross my arms over my chest.
I repressed the urge and sassed back instead.
“You didn’t have to. Your smug face says it all.”
His arm circled back around me, and I noticed he was holding my shampoo, the one I’d been using religiously for years.
“I think you mean handsome face .” He squeezed a generous amount into his palm, more than I’d normally use, but I didn’t say anything, just watched as he snapped the cap back on one- handed and returned it. He rubbed his palms together to work it into a lather before massaging it into my hair.
My witty reply was instantly forgotten as a moan spilled free instead. His thick, strong fingers working shampoo into my scalp felt so heavenly my eyes were practically rolling back into my head.
“And can you blame me?” Josh asked, voice a tad huskier but otherwise ignoring my reaction as he continued to wash my hair carefully, making sure to avoid getting any in my eyes. “Who wouldn’t want a gorgeous woman joining them in the shower?”
The hot water spraying my back had nothing on the heat blooming along my cheeks. I’d been called many things by guys before, both good and bad, but I’d never been called gorgeous.