I take his hand, pulling him up off the bed and dragging him toward the bathroom. His hands fall to my hips, his nose nudging my hair out of the way so he can kiss my neck as his body presses against mine. He tugs at my shirt, pulling it down over my shoulders, and discards it on the floor.
He takes a moment to reach in the shower and start the water. When he turns back to me, he slips an arm easily around my waist, and as the shower door closes softly next to us, he presses me up against the other side. My leg hooks around his hip as he kisses me, his lips brushing softly over my chin and my neck before returning to my mouth.
Desperate for him, I claw at his underwear and push it down over his hips.
I drop to my knees in front of him, and with one hand at his base, I slowly drag my tongue along his head. He shudders, leaning roughly into one hand on the shower door. “Fuck.”
He breathes in sharply as I wrap my lips around him, pressing my tongue to the bottom of him. His hand weaves into my hair–not pushing too deep, just holding on–as his thigh muscles tense. I run my hand along them, trailing from his knees up to his balls, and cup them lightly as I use my hand to pump him. My lips to suck him.
“Fuck, you do that well,” he sputters. He shakes his head in disbelief as I hold his gaze.
I like what I can do to him.
I take him deeper–just a little too deep–and choke a little. He runs a thumb along my chin, as if to tell me not to take him deeper than I can handle, and when I do it again, he grabs me under the arms and hauls me up against the shower door.
“I have to fuck you,” he says, tugging my legs up around him and lining himself up with my entrance.
He pushes in slowly, and I cling to him as he moves. He breathes heavily in my ear.
“We’re not going to make it into the shower at this rate,” I joke.
He pauses, and quickly slides out of me. “Get in,” he says, opening the door for me and gesturing for me to get in. “It’s gotta be warm enough at this point.”
It is. It feels absolutely perfect.
Even better when he pushes my hips roughly into the wall, taking my mouth with his and continuing where we left off. Bottle of shampoo clatter to the floor as he thrusts into me, his eyes focused only on me. “Fuck, I thought feeling how wet you were between your legs was hot, but look at your wet fucking tits.”
He runs a nipple between his fingers.
“You’re one to talk,” I say, running my hands over his thick muscles, marveling at the way he looks with wet, messy hair. The drips that fall from his eyelashes to his cheeks.
I’m so overwhelmed with sensation–him pulsing roughly into me, his muscles beneath my fingers, the grunts that sneak from his throat, the water splashing onto my skin–that my orgasm takes hold strong and fast.
I cry out, grabbing onto his shoulders and raking my nails down his back. He keeps a steady pace, waiting for me to finish before jerking into me, holding me tight against him.
He leans his head against the wall over my shoulder, his chest heaving. “Fuck.”
“My thoughts exactly,” I say, as he slowly extracts himself from me. I instantly feel a warm trickle down my thigh, and move to where the water can wash it away.
His hands cling to me, running along my hips. My stomach. My arms. He touches me as if he’s scared I’ll disappear if he stops, and I find myself craving it. Leaning into it.
I wash my hair with floral-scented shampoo and ignore the reason he has it. Wash my body with pink soap that I don’t question.
When we’re done, he stands behind me, looking into the mirror over the vanity. He runs a towel through my hair, and I lean back into him, the warmth of his body comforting.
For a moment, I stare at myself in the mirror, an unfamiliar person looking back at me. If you had asked me a year ago where I’d be now, it wouldn’t have even occurred to me that I’d be in this fancy bathroom, wet and naked with a man I hardly know.
Yet somehow this feels better than any moment I spent with Chris.
I find myself leaning back further, the sight of our naked bodies intertwined intoxicating. He winds an arm around my waist, his lips dipping to my shoulder. I reach up, resting my palm on the back of his neck, and he hands begin exploring, his fingers brushing along my stomach. My sides. My nipples.
My need builds, and I turn to face him.
His lips fall to mine, his tongue working mine slowly as he lifts me up onto the vanity and steps between my legs. I waste no time wrapping them around him.
I wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him closer to me, and dig my fingers into his hair. His groan in my mouth stokes the fire burning in my abdomen.
He takes a step away from me, my legs still around his waist, and his eyes dip, trailing along my body.
I suddenly feel self-conscious, and pull my legs toward me.
He shakes his head at the movement.
“I want to see you,” he says, his hands landing on my inner thighs and pushing them apart.
My chest heaves as he draws a slick line down my center, torn between self-consciousness and a level of horniness I’m not sure I’ve felt before. I shiver as his thumb brushes over that little nub.
I struggle to catch my breath as he kneels down in front of me. He grabs my legs and rests them on his shoulders as he stares at my core. He trails one finger along my slick center and slips it inside.
“Fuck,” I say, hardly able to catch my breath at the feeling.
“My god, Annabel Hall,” he says, slowly slipping another finger inside of me. He pulses slowly–gently, even–while he holds my gaze.
And then he leans forward, his lips connecting with my clit and beginning with a gentle suction that has me nearly flying off the vanity. I cry out, my arms searching for something to grab onto and landing on the towel rack with a clatter.
He raises his eyebrows as I compose myself.
“Well, I’ll remember that trick,” he says, licking delicate circles with his eyes on mine.
He builds me up slowly, watching as my chest begins heaving. Just as I feel my orgasm building, he slips in a third finger, and pushes me right over the edge.
I grab onto his hair, scratching at his shoulders as I cry out, and he continues licking me until I’m done.
Afterward, he tugs my legs down so I can stand, and presses his lips against mine.“I think you, Annabel Hall, are my favorite dessert.”
Thanks so much for reading Things We’ve Lost and Found. I hope you enjoyed it! If you have a spare minute to leave a review on Amazon, Goodreads, or the retailer of your choice, I would be forever grateful! A minute of your time can truly make a difference in an indie author’s career.
The next installment of the Love and City Lights series, Things We Used to Believe, releases 3/31/24.
Follow Gabi and Zeke as their comfortable friendship explodes into a deep, all-encompassing love that forces them both to question their long-held beliefs—and take a chance on each other.