I push open the bathroom door.
The room’s thick with steam. Warm, heavy. And behind the glass, Poppy stands naked.
Naked.
Slick.
Facing me.
Arm above as she tilts her head, fingers in her hair as water sluices over her wet body. Every inch of her glowing like sin and salvation wrapped in one breathtakingly hot package.
She doesn’t move when she sees me.
Poppy isexpectingme.
She’s not hiding. Not covering up.
She’swaiting.
I let the door swing shut behind me, exhale slowly, and meet her gaze.
“You didn’t close the door,” I explain.
Her smile is lazy. “I didn’t want to.”
Those four words are all it takes, and my restraint snaps like a live wire.
I take a step closer, chest tight, adrenaline pounding, the heat from the shower nothing compared to the heat rolling off my skin. I can’t tear my eyes off her—wet and wild and waiting like sheknewI’d join her.
I reach for the hem of my dress shirt, dragging it up slow, watching her watch me. Her eyes track every movement. Wide, dark, lustful.
Shirt hits the floor.
Next, the jeans. I push them down, pulse hammering in my throat, anticipation curling in my gut like a fuse lit too close to the powder. Underwear. Dress socks.
Her eyes go to my cock.
Good.
Hope she’s still hungry.
I take a slow breath. Step into the steam.
The door closes behind me with a soft click, sealing us in.
One slow step forward and her arms are slipping around my neck, bare tits pressing against my chest, slick heat meeting muscle as she rises up on her toes, mouth so close to mine I can already taste her.
She kisses me—lips, water, breath, andneed—as my hands slide between our bodies and up to her breasts. My thumbs brush over her nipples and she gasps against my mouth, nails biting into my shoulders like she needs something to hold on to.
Like I’m the only thing keeping her upright.
She’s not shy.Not with me.
Not that I want her to be…
I want all of it—the way she melts into me, how her lips part like she’s tasting something sweeter than steam and water and heat. The way her body arches into my hands like we were made for this, forhere, like she’s not afraid to let me feel how badly she wants me back.
My breath stutters as her mouth trails along my jaw, her voice a whisper against my skin. “You’re shaking.”
