She giggled when he set her back on her feet.
He pushed her hair out of her face and tilted it so the spray could saturate each strand. And when she opened her eyes, Wyatt was staring with a hooded gaze that made her feel beautiful.
Melanie ran her hands up his chest and grasped the edges of his T-shirt. He ducked and helped her remove it. She allowed her hands to run over the smooth muscles of his chest. “Nice,” she mumbled.
“Your turn,” he said before reaching for the buttons of her shirt. The water made slipping the buttons through the holes difficult, but he managed and brushed the shirt away as if it were an annoyance. Strong hands cupped the sides of her breasts through her bra, and Wyatt’s lips replaced his gaze. The graze of his teeth made a path from the top of one breast to the other before he slipped one strap down her shoulder and kissed her there. She felt her knees give out just a little and Wyatt steadied her. “None of that,” he whispered.
“Can’t help it,” she said.
He lifted his kiss and turned her away from him.
He filled his palm with shampoo and ran his hands through her hair and followed the suds down her shoulders and back. He ran a finger between her bra and skin before snapping apart the clasp and tossing the garment over the top of the glass door.
She glanced at him over her shoulder with a smile. He found soap and lathered his hands before running them over her back and slipping around to follow the curve of her chest. Even in the heated water, her nipples tightened with his touch as she pushed into his palms. He didn’t linger there; instead he kept moving his soap filled palms over every inch of her exposed skin.
Her shorts proved a little difficult with wet denim, so she helped with the snap and the zipper and let him draw them down along with her panties, her back still to him.
Wyatt kept her from slipping as he brought one leg out of her shorts at a time. The two met her bra outside the shower. When he returned, his hands started at her thighs and explored. Slow movements cleaned the less private areas, leaving her breathless with only a touch.
He leaned into her, the feel of his jeans rough on her skin, and kissed the side of her neck. “I’ve thought about you in here, like this,” he told her.
Melanie rested the back of her head on his shoulder and let the water cascade over her. “I like your shower.”
He turned her around, captured her lips, and pressed her into the cool tiles. The heat, his kiss . . . the chill of the wall, all of it made her shiver and reach for him. When her hands slid past his waist, she fumbled with the button of his jeans and pulled.
They didn’t give. She tugged harder and failed.
Wyatt smiled through his kiss and helped her. Once the snap was off, the zipper was down; she pushed his hands away and broke their kiss for air. Instead of turning him around, she offered a sly smile and forced her palms between his ass and his jeans and slid them down his hips. Like him, she removed his underwear with his pants and tried not to stare at his erection when she knelt to help him safely remove one foot at a time. Taking his lead, she tossed the soggy clothes outside the shower and continued her exploration. She found soap, lathered her palms, and took her time scrubbing his tight muscles. From knee to hip, up his chest and over his shoulders she lathered and scrubbed. When her fingers slid over the globes of his ass, he hissed and she smiled.
His hands rested on both sides of her against the wall, his attempt, she knew, to keep this slow. When her hand rounded to the front of him and brushed against his erection, he broke.
Hands were everywhere, his lips took hers and weren’t letting go. Between the water and the pleasurable assault of his tongue, she was captured. He lifted her knee, pushed dangerously close.
Melanie felt herself slide and caught his shoulders to keep from falling.
“We’ve got to get out of here before someone gets hurt,” she told him.
He nodded. “And we need a condom.”
Her thoughts exactly.
He shut the water off, stepped out of the shower, and returned with a huge towel to wrap her in. When she attempted to take over the chore of removing the water from her skin, he moved faster, then lifted her in his arms and carried her into his bedroom. “I can walk,” she giggled.
“I’ve got you.”
He placed her on the bed and removed the towel. With a quick brush against his skin, he tossed it to the floor and crawled up beside her.
“Hi,” he said with a smile.
She ran her foot over his thigh. “Hi.”
The chill of the room didn’t last long. His kiss returned where it had left off, only without a threat of slipping and falling, and Melanie closed her eyes to enjoy it. All of it.
He moved down her body, gave her nipple a quick pinch before comforting the tiny sting with his lips and teeth. Had there been a time in her life when she’d been so sexually charged? She couldn’t remember.
She opened for him, felt his fingers spread between her thighs, and when he finally touched her, she moaned. Tiny stars floated in her head as she pushed against his hand. There was no shyness now, no insecurity of how she looked, of her being a mother . . . nothing. It was just her and Wyatt and this incredible moment.
“So wet,” he said before replacing his finger with his tongue.
“Oh, God.” She sighed, caught her breath, and ran a hand through his wet hair as he tasted his fill. And when she was close, so close she felt the rush of the wind on her thighs, he pulled away.
She whimpered.
When he returned, he was covering his erection and teasing her again.
A look in her eyes and a smile was apparently all the encouragement he needed. When he filled her, she wrapped her legs around his waist and met him with every push and pull. When he kissed her, she tasted herself and his smile. When she came for him, he eased his pace, rolled over, and kept going. She clenched every muscle she had and watched his face until she felt a second orgasm forcing her eyes closed.