22. Bailey #2
I clutched the front of the towel tight in one hand, reaching out with the other to stroke his chest.
“I wondered if you would be interested in taking a shower with me?” I asked.
“Would I be interest—” He ran a hand down his face. “Please tell me that was a rhetorical question.”
I grinned. “It’s a serious question, Noah, and I’m still waiting on your very serious answer.”
“Yes. Fuck yes. What are we still doing standing here?” he grunted.
He slid his forearms under my ass, and I barely managed to keep the towel held shut as he sprinted to his bathroom.
My laughter rang down the hallway, and I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face if I wanted to.
He placed me down on the cool tiles of the bathroom and pressed a quick kiss on my forehead before holding my face in his hands.
“I would love to shower with you. I don’t think there is anything I want to do more in the world.”
He paused, and I sensed a but coming. I instinctively pulled back, worried my attempt at being forward and sexy was about to get rejected.
God, what was I thinking?
But Noah’s eyes softened the second they met mine, and I somehow knew that I didn’t have anything to worry about.
“I want to make sure you are one hundred percent comfortable with this, with me, after everything with Liam…” he said.
Oh.
Oh.
Of course, Noah would be the hottest man I had ever encountered in my twenty-four years of living, and also painfully considerate.
“Honestly? It’s going to take me a minute to fully get over what he did. But I don’t want to let him come between us.”
I stepped closer to Noah, fully pressing my body against his.
“Today was one of the best days of my entire life,” I breathed. “And I’d like for that to continue tonight. Right now.”
With our bodies still touching, I slowly released the knot on my towel and let it pool around my feet. Noah’s gaze moved over me without hesitation, roaming from my head to my toes over and over again.
“Fuck,” he groaned. “What do I do now, Bailey? Do I suck on those pretty tits until you forget your name? Get down on my knees and beg you to let me taste you?”
“How about you start with getting naked,” I said, trying for confidence and almost believing it.
He turned on the shower, stripping quickly, and for the first time, I let myself really look at him.
Noah was just so freaking attractive. He was lean but strong, with quiet strength in every line of him.
Not to mention his thighs. I had never once in my life been attracted to a pair of thighs, but clearly, I’d been converted.
They were muscular enough that once I remembered how to form full sentences again, I was absolutely asking about his workout routine.
Noah pinned me with his eyes.
“It’s rude to stare, Bailey.”
“It’s rude to be carved out of marble, too,” I mumbled under my breath.
He stepped into the shower, his firm ass proudly on display, before testing the temperature and reaching his hand out to pull me in. I clearly had not thought this through because the combination of Noah and steamy glass doors was a more intoxicating mix than any amount of alcohol.
He stepped under the spray, letting the water fall down every divot on his body before switching spots with me.
The warm spray plastered my hair to my body, and water fell off my eyelashes like my own personal rainstorm.
His eyes tracked the droplets that ran down my chest, and a hint of possession flashed across his face.
Holy shit.
We were in here for all of thirty seconds, and he was already rock hard, heavy, and impossible to ignore. A flicker of nerves ran through me, sharp and uncertain. He must have seen it.
“It’ll fit, baby,” he said softly. “I already know you were made for me.”
His reassurance loosened something in my chest. He leaned against the back wall of the shower and stroked himself slowly from base to tip while his eyes darted across my body.
“Can you touch yourself for me, pretty girl? Show me what you wish my hands were doing.”
I had definitely never done this before. Most of my previous experiences happened in dim rooms with men who mysteriously lost the will to live after leaving me without an orgasm. I was nervous, but the way Noah watched me didn’t feel like pressure; it felt like permission.
Watching him pleasure himself to nothing but the sight and thought of me had me soaked already.
I cupped my heavy breasts, tweaking my nipples back and forth before sliding a hand down the soft curve of my stomach to reach my clit.
I circled gently, imagining it was Noah’s fingers instead, and a soft sound escaped me.
My head fell back against the tile. Every nerve in my body was on fire, like the entire day had been a version of foreplay.
“You like having your clit teased, don’t you? You like it gentle and soft?” Noah asked, voice rough. “But eventually you want to be fucked hard, right? My girl can have both.”
He stroked himself faster, twisting his hand as he reached his tip, and I could see pre-cum leaking. There was no rush or expectation in his eyes, just heavy attention.
“Noah,” I breathed.
“Tell me what you need, Bailey. Say the words.”
“I need you,” I whispered. “Please touch me.”
He stepped closer, crowding me gently against the corner of the shower so we were no longer directly under the spray. He cupped my face, thumbs brushing under my eyes like he was checking for something only he could see.
“Still with me?” he asked quietly.
It was a question with a lot of hidden meaning.
I nodded, my hand covering his wrist. “I’m here.”
“Okay,” he murmured, stopping to briefly suck on my nipple before dropping to his knees. “Then let me take care of you.”
His hands moved slowly, grounding, as he kissed my stomach, my inner thighs, and the curve of my knee before lifting my leg over his shoulder. My head tipped back, and my mind went empty.
“Eyes on me, peaches. Watch me worship this pussy.”
He dove in like a man possessed. Licking, nipping, and sucking while keeping a firm grasp on my ass.
My breath hitched, then broke, then turned into something softer—something that felt like vulnerability.
He had no problem shifting from licking my sensitive bundle of nerves to shoving his tongue inside of me, and I’m pretty positive that his face was soaked in my arousal.
I rocked my hips forward, chasing after more of him.
“Noah,” I whispered, my voice shaking.
His grip on me tightened, steady, reassuring.
“That’s it,” he murmured. “I’ve got you. Let go for me.”
My back pressed into the tile, my hand tightening in his hair as my orgasm finally tipped over, warmth rushing through me in waves that stole the air from my lungs.
“Noah—”
He didn’t stop until the last tremor faded, until my breathing softened and my legs loosened around him. He rested his forehead against my stomach, a quiet pause that felt almost reverent, and his hand smoothed over my hip like he was grounding himself just as much as me.
“I can’t get enough of you, baby. Enough of your taste. Or the way you fall apart for me,” he hummed. “I could spend all night between your legs, and I still wouldn’t be satisfied.”
I reached for him without thinking, needing his lips on mine and aching to taste myself on him. He responded with vigor, thrusting his tongue in my mouth while his hand threaded into my hair. He tugged my head back at the same time he pinched my nipple. Hard.
I felt my eyes roll into the back of my head.
“You like being my good girl? Submitting yourself to me?” he asked.
I nodded as much as I could. People always tried to make decisions for me, to tell me what to do or how to live, and to belittle me when I didn’t listen.
But giving up control with Noah felt like a euphoric release.
As if I could turn my brain off and just feel, solely focused on our joint pleasure.
I pressed one more kiss to his lips before sliding down to my knees, Noah’s cock making a front-and-center appearance as steam swirled around us.
“Bailey, baby, you don’t have to—”
I fisted his cock, looking up at him.
“I want to. I want to see you lose control.”
His head tilted back, and I saw a silent battle flash across his face.
“You know I can’t deny you anything, and I would be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about what your gorgeous mouth would look like wrapped around my cock.”
He leveled me with a stare.
“Tap my thigh twice if it becomes too much.”
“Yes, sir,” I whispered.
His eyes closed for a second as my answer settled in him.
“Jesus, Bailey…” he exhaled, almost to himself. “That’s my perfect girl.”