Page 25 of Merlot Marriage

As the cold water runs over my body, I focus on the goose bumps it raises along my skin. My cock, who’s been twitching for attention every time I think about Ophie, stubbornly refuses to settle down. There’s so much heat built up inside me that I’m surprised the water doesn’t hiss and steam.

I shut the shower off with a curse, then dry myself before wrapping the towel around my hips while I brush my teeth.

“Philip?” Ophie’s voice rings through the tiny space.

I make an incomprehensible noise, my mouth full of toothpaste and spit.

“What was that?” She pops up in the doorway of the bathroom, surprising me. I whirl to face her with a gasp. Or it tries to be a gasp, but mostly toothpaste goes down my throat and up my nose. A cough explodes out of me at the same time as a sneeze.

My whole body twitches and jerks as I cough and splutter. Finally getting some air into my lungs, I manage to turn and spit what’s left in my mouth into the sink. Ophie is making all kindsof noises beside me, but my eyes are watering so hard, I can’t see her clearly.

“Oh god, I’m sorry,” I pant out.

“Move over.” She pushes me away from the sink, and I stumble a few steps. The water turns on as I sit on the edge of the tub to catch my breath and survey the damage.

Ophie is leaning over the sink, splashing water on her face like a Noxzema commercial. Streaks of my toothpaste spit drip down the doorway, and a splotch is visible on her shoulder nearest me.

“Oh god, Ophie, I’m so sorry.” Now that my breathing is back to normal, I push to my feet.

She straightens, eyes closed and water dripping off her chin. “Towel?”

I snag hers from the rack and hand it to her. She scrubs her face dry while I stand there like an idiot, hands flapping uselessly. If dancing from foot to foot wouldn’t dislodge my towel, I’d be doing that too.

“Are you okay? I’m so sorry. You startled me, and I inhaled—”

With a final scrub, the face I’ve been obsessing over all afternoon emerges from the towel, baby hairs sticking up in all directions and makeup smeared. She takes one look at me and starts belly laughing. “I’m fine, I’m fine,” she gasps out between chuckles. “I was not expecting to walk into a face full of toothpaste when I came home, but I’m fine.”

“Are you sure? I got toothpaste all over you.” I pluck at her black polo shirt. “Can I wash this for you? I feel terrible.”

All the movement has loosed the towel around my hips, and before I can move, it drops to the floor.

Ophie and I freeze.

Oh god, please don’t let her look. If she looks, I don’t know if my half-hard cock will go limp in embarrassment or stand to attention. And I don’t know which would be worse. “Fuck,” I croak out, before snatching the towel from her limp fingers andusing it to cover myself. “Christ, Ophie. I should go before I…” I don’t know how to finish my sentence, so I trail off. She’s still frozen, her eyes wide and hands still up, as if she hasn’t moved since I grabbed the towel.

As a strained silence builds between us, her eyes drop to where I’m pressing her towel against my junk. “I…I should…” I stammer out the words, but she doesn’t move aside to let me past her. Instead, she looks up to meet my eyes and bites her bottom lip, making my cock go hard against my fist.

I can barely breathe. What is going through her mind? I just spat in her face, then flashed her. Why is she looking at me like I’m a puzzle she’s trying to solve?

“Philip…can I?” Her words are barely audible. But her next words are louder, surer. “Fuck it.”

Then she grabs my face and kisses me.

Ophelia kisses me like she means business. Her lips capture mine, her hands cupping my cheeks and holding me still. As if there’s any part of me that wants to move away and break this spell. If anything, I’m afraid to even think too hard in case it spooks her and puts a stop to whatever is happening right now. Her tongue swipes out to lick across my lips, sending sparks down my spine, and a moan escapes me.

She pulls back, and for a second, we just stare at each other. My lips burn from touching hers, the imprint of her fingertips on my face seared into my skin as my heart races.

All my reasons for not doing this a thousand times before vanish. All I know is that kissing Ophie feels so good, I could do it a million more times and it still wouldn’t be enough. I need more.

I step into her, about to grab her waist, when I remember the towel clutched in my hands. Instead, I press my lips to hers with a frustrated groan, and she melts against me, the centimeters between us sparking with electricity.

At least I don’t have to worry about what my breath smells like.

Ophie parts her mouth, and I pull her bottom lip between mine, tugging for a moment before I slide my tongue along the soft skin. With a moan, she opens and meets my tongue with her own.

I don’t know how long we stand there in the bathroom kissing. It could be thirty seconds, it could be an hour. Time stops, and everything in the world settles perfectly into place as Ophie’s breath mingles with mine.

Her hands haven’t strayed from my face, her delicate fingers tickling the back of my neck. Again, I need to pull her closer, but the towel in my hands stops me.

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