That makes me smile. “You’re closer,” I tell her.
“Am not.”
“Let’s make it a contest, then,” I say. “I bet I can make you come before you can make me come. Loser buys breakfast.”
“Mmm,” she says, tilting against the tile wall, eyes half closed. “You’re on.” Her arm snakes out, and she reaches for a bottle.
“What are you doing?”
“Employing all the tools at my disposal,” she says, dispensing conditioner into her palm and resuming her work. And holy shit, she has my number, her hand as tight as before but way slicker, sliding over my swollen flesh, working the base of the head with her thumb as her palm passes along the shaft.
“I didn’t realize tools were fair game,” I grit out, barely able to string the words together, my knees going weak as blood surges into my cock and energy coalesces at the base of my spine. I know the worst thing I can do is thrust into the tight grasp of her fist, but I’m having trouble helping myself.
“All’s fair in love and war,” she says, and the only thing that keeps me sane is that she sounds as close to the edge as I feel. I focus all my efforts on not coming, encircle her with my arm, and reach for the detachable showerhead.
“You said it, not me,” I tell her. I part her labia with my fingers and let the spray from the nozzle fall right on her most sensitive flesh; she gasps and arches and a flush spreads up from her chest, and that’s it for me—I’m gone, coming all over her hand again, but if I’m going, she’s coming, too, and I lean to take one of her nipples into my mouth, and she comes with a shout that’s half pleasure, half victory.
41
Rhys
We’re both a little weak-kneed as we get dressed and ready to head into town.
“Where’d you learn the shower-nozzle trick?” she asks. And then, “Never mind. I probably don’t want to know the answer to that, do I?”
“I had a girlfriend in college who informed me that she had an intense relationship with her shower nozzle,” I tell her. “But I’ve never actually used one on anyone. I’ve never actually lived anywhere with a detachable nozzle before.”
“I wouldn’t have thought of it as a must-have,” she says. “But if I were designing a bathroom from scratch, I woulddefinitelyinstall one.”
“Having seen the results,” I say, “me, too.”
“I did still win,” she says.
“You did,” I concede. “Although I think, technically, we both won.”
In the car, she says, “What are you doing in New York?”
“Just a quick court appearance to get closure for someone.”
“Justice rolls on, huh?”
“Or something.”
“I’ll miss you,” she says, smiling. “But I’ll find a way to entertain myself in the meantime.”
She’ll miss me. I don’t want to delight in that fact, but I can’t help it. Because fuck it, I’ll miss her, too, even if it’s only a couple of days.
“I’ll leave a key with you. You can come over and use my shower.”
She gives a shiver of delight. “Totally taking you up on that.”
“Totally picturing you doing so.”
I seriously think about pulling the car over the side of the road. I could get both of us off before the cops showed up, right? “I can’t get enough of you,” I say, feeling like a sap but also like I want her to know.
For a second I wonder if I’ve overstepped, and then she says, her voice husky, “Yeah. Me neither.”
Warmth spreads through me, and I think,What would old Rhys have to say about this?
