“Can I have some soap?” he asks.
I grab the bottle of body wash that sits on the top shelf and extend it to him. He doesn’t take it.
“Put some in your hands.”
Doing as he says, I squeeze a large amount into my hand and put the bottle back. Seth steps out of the water, his eyes still closed as small droplets run across his eyelids. Without another word, I reach out to him, coating his chest in a thin layer of soap. I can’t hear his heavy breathing under the crashing flow of water, but I can see his parted lips, and under my hands his chest moves in a slow, deep rhythm. I massage his large, wide chest with my finger tips before flattening my palm and moving lower towards his alluringly stomach. I catch the inside corner of my bottom lip between my teeth as I trace the shallow grooves between each muscle and my body grows warmer every second my skin lingers on his.
“I’ve missed your hands…” he mutters as he slumps into himself, completely relaxing under my touch.
My hands continue to roam him, trailing between bumps of muscle and up his long arms. I’m not sure how long I wash him for…minutes.
Hours.
Days.
Who knows. What I do know though, is that I feel completely at peace here with him.
Droplets of water slide over his mouth and glisten like crystals as they reflect the light. The drops pool together, continuing their journey down his chin, and meander over his throat, past his collarbones…I need to put my mouth on those collarbones.
“Tell me, Olivia…” The way he speaks sends vibrations through my bloodstream and directly between my legs. I look at his face—he’s watching me closely. “Did you touch yourself when you couldn’t have me?”
I never let my eyesight waver from his and I wait patiently for him to smile—or do anything to tell me he’s joking. Nothing happens. His eyes remain on mine, waiting for an honest answer. I ignore his large friend pointing at me and focus solely on his face.
“Yes.” Or at least I tried to. I never got very far because I wanted him to touch me. I tried to picture my hands as his, but they just weren’t thick enough…or rough enough. His lips curl slightly and he steps forward.
“You’re naughty.” He chuckles darkly. “Show me.”
I swallow hard. “Show you what?” I ask, playing dumb.
I know exactly what he wants me to show him, I’m just buying myself more time to make up mind.
“Show me how you touch yourself when you’re thinking about me.”
I step back and my bare ass cheeks press against the glass. “I can’t.”
Touching myself is something I’ve only done in private time and sharing that with someone else seems…odd. He inches closer and snatches my wrist. I gasp as he pushes my own hand between my thighs and moves my fingers slowly against my soft flesh, under his guidance. Almost instantly, I notice an increase in my breathing and my arousal meter tips over the edge.
Seth brings his mouth closer to mine and his warm breath collides with my face.
“I want you to do it,” I tell him as I slip my hand from his, making his hard fingers press firmly against my clit.
It’s exactly what I want—rough and thick. The mere thought of his fingers touching me causes my breath to hitch and my knees to almost buckle. I press the palms of my hands against the glass, keeping my eyes on Seth’s. He leans in close, and I flex my hips against his hand.
“I’m not going to rub you,” he states. “But I am going to taste you.”
His tongue flicks out and runs across the base of my ear lobe before tracing sensually along my jaw. My blood burns as my skin erupts with goosebumps. I roll my head to the side, giving him more flesh to lick as he lowers himself, nipping and sucking at my skin. His strong arm surrounds my waist as his mouth travels over my collarbone, down my chest, and over one of my nipples. I try to dig my fingers into the glass, but end up balling my fists instead as my heads falls back. My chest is heavy, filled with steam, but it’s not the only reason I’m breathing so deeply.
I rake my teeth over my bottom lip as his hand glides smoothly between my legs, circling slowly. Keeping my hips still is impossible, but I manage to roll it to a slow, almost non-existent pace. I’ve wanted him to touch me for so long and now that it’s happening, I don’t want it to end—not yet. I close my eyes while his mouth brushes over my belly button, across my hip and down to my thigh. A light moan slips from my lips as his hand curls around my knee and he hitches it over his shoulder. I open my eyes and glance down. He’s staring hotly up at me, his eyes halved into lusty slits. Seth opens his mouth and my eyes grow heavier as he sensually slides his tongue directly over my center.
“Ohhh…” I moan, letting my head fall back against the glass. “Seth…”
The coarse feeling of his facial hair tickles me everywhere, forcing the sensation to build up quickly. My fingers slide across my own hips and into his hair, urging him harder onto me. His teeth move to my clit, biting and nipping. I pull his hair a little too roughly, causing him to moan and I feel it vibrate over every inch of my excited body. Sliding one hand from his hair, I guide it between my thighs and I feel the edge of his lips pressed eagerly against my smooth skin. He moves his mouth slightly, allowing me to feel his tongue dart in and out of me.
“Holy shit…” I moan.
My legs start to shake as my orgasm builds rapidly, and as it’s about to tip over the edge, Seth slips out from underneath my leg and grabs my hand, forcing both of our fingers onto my clit. He presses his whole body against mine, forcing my back hard against the glass. His mouth slams against mine, absorbing all of my panting as our fingers quickly rub my sensitive flesh, sending shockwaves of pleasure through me. I jolt forward, moans sounding deep in my chest as I taste my own excitement on Seth’s tongue. His mouth doesn’t let up until my legs quiver uncontrollably and my moans have subsided to deep slow breaths. He sucks my bottom lip between his and slides his hands up my side and around to my backside, pulling me hard against him.
“You will rub yourself for me next time.”
I’ve never seen Seth so demanding sexually before and it’s exciting. I’m ready to go again. I nod my head, pressing my mouth to his and tasting myself for the second time.
He pulls away and plants a soft kiss on my nose. “Let’s get out and help Jackson unpack.”
“Wait. What about you?” I gesture to his obvious arousal and he smiles, stepping away from me and underneath the flow of the shower before turning the hot water off. His muscles tense as the cooler water runs over his body, taking his erection with it.
“You don’t want to have sex?” I ask, confused and disappointed.
I want to have sex with him. Now.
“I want to have sex, but not in the shower and not when people are downstairs. When I take you again, I want you to be free to be as loud as you want, and trust me, when that time comes, you will be loud.”
He turns the shower off and I follow him. As we step out onto the bath mat, he hands me a towel and I run it over my body, drying every droplet and wrapping it around my chest.
I lean against the shower and watch Seth towel off. He runs the cloth up his arm and over his black tattoo—a tattoo I still have no idea what it represents, but it sure is beautiful. It isn’t tribal, that I know for sure, but the swirls and patterns would have you believe it is. The closer I look, the more the patterns look sharp and angry, but as they pass over the shoulder, the curves become more subtle and peaceful. My gaze drops to the one running across his hip. ‘If you can make it through the night, there’s a brighter day.’
I remember the first time I saw it. It was the very first time I saw Seth fight and win. “When did you get that one?” I ask out of nowhere.
Seth glances down and then goes back to running the towel through his hair. “When I was sixteen.”
I gape at him. “Sixteen?”
“Yeah. I went through a bit of a dark period…” He chuckles. “And I thought I was cool.”
I shift my weight onto my other leg. “Do you regret it?”
“No. I’d never get a tattoo I’d end up regretting. They all mean something to me.”
“All of them? Even that?” I ask, nodding my head toward his shoulder.
He glances at his shoulder. “Especially that.”
I arch a brow and he sighs as he wraps the towel low on his hips.
“You’re probably going to think it’s stupid.”
“It’s tattooed on your skin so it obviously means a lot to you and I won’t think something that means so much is stupid.”
“I started my shoulder tattoo when I was seventeen.” He points to his upper bicep and I make no comment on the absurdity of an underage teenager getting a tattoo. “One day Dad and I got into a huge fight about responsibility—or lack thereof. I got pissed off and being the spiteful asshole that I am, I went and got a tattoo. In the beginning it didn’t really mean anything, just a bunch of angry lines…I would sit in the chair not saying a word and the guy would tattoo anything on me, going purely off my silence.” His finger follows the tattoo up to his shoulder. “Over time, we started talking and I began opening up to him about my father and how he wasn’t impressed with any decision I ever made, even if it was a good one. The tattoo guy—Declan—was fucking brilliant. He helped me through a lot of things.”
My gaze follows Seth’s finger as he traces his tattoo and then I see it. On his bicep is a bird…just sitting there with its wings at its sides—you can’t see it clearly, it’s made up of shapes and swirls, not concrete lines. As the tattoo progresses, there’s another bird that stretches over his shoulder and onto his chest, wings spread and full of confidence. Now that I see them, I can’t unsee them. They’re as clear as day and I can’t believe I didn’t see it before.
“When my Dad died, I had the tattoo completed.” His finger strokes the confident bird. “It might be a shit thing to say, but I think I’m a happier person because of it.”
He gives me a tight smile and drops his hands to adjust his towel.
“I can’t believe I didn’t notice the birds before…” I say, changing the subject. I know how Seth doesn’t like to linger on topics about his Dad for too long—not without getting pissed off, anyway.
“That’s the whole point. I know they’re there and what they mean, but to everyone else, I’m just another douchebag with a tribal tattoo. Just the way I like it.”
I laugh, sauntering closer. “You have a lot of hidden secrets, don’t you?”
“Experiences, yes. Secrets, no.”
His arms surround me and the crisp clean scent of his skin filters in through my nostrils. I press my tongue against the roof of my mouth to avoid licking him.
“C’mon. Let’s help Jackson and then eat.”
A single, burning hot tear rolls down my cheek and I swipe it away, blinking rapidly. Why does it hurt so damn much?
“Stupid onions.” I sniffle, dicing the last portion.
When I’m done, I drop the knife and dab my eyes with my tank top. I quickly scoop up the onions and drop them in with the rest of the salad before tossing it all together. I grab the bowl, a pair of tongs, and a small bottle of French dressing before strolling out the back door and onto Seth’s back porch. It’s a low and spacious concrete deck surrounded by small, sweet smelling bushes and long concrete columns. His backyard is large, filled with tiny fruit trees and huge terracotta pots. Up on the hill at the back is a big pool house with a large swimming pool to match.
Helping Jackson with his boxes took hours, but he’s almost set up now. I came across a few boxes he refused to let me open for sake of my own ‘innocence’ which both Seth and Selena found hilarious. Of course, that led to Jackson and Seth bringing up the strip club and how I reacted when Vivian, the stripper, grinded on me and sucked my lip into her mouth. Selena protested the fact I’d never gone to a strip club with her, but I think I convinced her that I legitimately had no idea we were even going. Thankfully, nobody mentioned the incident with Don and I think all those involved appreciated it.
I look around the backyard. The low lying sun coats everything in a golden light that makes my stomach flutter. Sometimes, it’s the simple things that are breathtaking. Seth is truly living the life here and I feel bad that he has to leave his palace to visit me in Mom and Dad’s house. I place the salad in the middle of the table and drop into the seat across from Selena. Apparently, Seth has to sit at the head of his table, just like my dad did at ours. It feels really nice…like I’m home. Jackson ignores the salad and dives straight into his steak, making a big spectacle of it.
“Man, these steaks are killer!”
Selena frowns at him with a small smile on the corner of her lips. I haven’t really spoken to her yet. We haven’t had time alone, but looking at her this afternoon, I’d say she is one hundred percent happy with Jackson and he seems happy with her. I try to picture him pissed off and controlling, but I can’t. He’s too laid back and young to be so…difficult. The only strange thing about them is that they still claim they’re just friends when I thought they were planning on dating after Seth’s amateur tournament.
“I promise you, it’s legitimately the best thing you’ve ever eaten.” Jackson groans, sucking his finger.
I grip my glass of red wine and bring it to my lips, taking a sip. Seth’s chesty chuckle draws everyone’s attention and he leans back in his chair, completely relaxed as he drags an index finger across his bottom lip. His dark eyes flick to me and his mouth curls into a cocky, unapologetic smile. “I don’t know about that,” he says.
