Page 62 of Unguarded

If she wasn’t concussed and we both didn’t reek of vomit, this would be a much different experience.

“This isn’t how I pictured our first shower together in my head,” she mumbles.

Her words are not helping the growing problem in my jeans. I’m not looking at her, but my lower half doesn’t seem to care. Even covered in vomit, she turns me on.

I am so fucked.

I have to take off my Wranglers, too, since the bottomhalf was spewed with throw-up. I turn away from her to pull them down before tossing all our soiled clothes out onto the rug.

“Yeah? I always thought we’d start in a Jacuzzi.” I guess we’re both confessing things.

The shower is finally getting steamy as the water heats up. There are two showerheads, one coming from higher up in the ceiling and spraying over me. The removable one is what we need. I grab it out of the holder, testing the temperature on my hand before I move toward her.

She leans forward, cupping the water in her hands and drinking it before she spits it back out on the floor. Her eyes slide up my bare legs to meet my gaze. My gray boxers and white T-shirt are soaked through. My dick is protruding out now, impossible to hide.

Her eyes widen as she takes me in. “Are you turned on right now?”

I get down on my knees in front of her, trying to keep my eyes off her pink nipples. “I’ve been turned on since the day we met.”

I start on her feet, rinsing her thoroughly. She grabs the bottle of body wash off the bench and hands it to me. I look up at her face.

She wants me to bathe her.

I can do this without coming.

With her sitting and me kneeling, we’re the same height. I squeeze the body wash into my hands, noticing it’s her vanilla and musky sandalwood scent. I tentatively reach out to start lathering it up over her feet and calves. Once I reach her knees, I glance up at her. She’s leaning her head back,lips parted and eyes glued on me. We stare at each other for a few long seconds, the steam rising around us. I keep moving up her body, washing her upper thighs next. She watches my movements, her eyes trailing from my face down to my erection and back again.

We don’t speak. Words aren’t something we need in this intimate moment. My hands—calluses and all—on her skin seem to be the only communication necessary.

When I get to her hips, she rises to stand. For a moment, I think she might stop me, but she remains motionless, waiting. Her sweet pussy is right in front of my face, begging for me to touch it. I squeeze more body wash into my hands, lathering it against her skin in leisurely circles. My fingers move closer and closer to her sex before, finally, my thumb brushes against it.

She moans, a desperate, high-pitched sound that almost sounds like her crying out. When I do it again, her legs start to tremble. Considering she just passed out and vomited less than an hour ago from a concussion, I resist the urge to brush over her a third time. If I keep touching her there, we’ll be fucking against the cold tiles in the next two minutes.

Her ass deserves its own day of worship. The round cheeks fill my hands perfectly. Resisting the urge to squeeze them takes all my strength. My hard-on has grown painful, and I’m definitely dripping with pre-cum. She still hasn’t touched me. Her hands remain at her sides as she waits for me to finish bathing her.

Once I get to her breasts, I take in a deep gulp of oxygen and move over them quickly. I clench my teeth when I feel the supple, silky skin of her nipples.

Holy fucking hell.

I scrape my thumbs over the tips of them only once, eliciting a whimper from the back of her throat. Our eyes meet. Raging lust, unrestrained desire, and a pure dose of arousal swirl in her gaze.

“Holy fuck, Princess,” I groan, leaning toward her.

She’s sick. She needs medical attention, not your dick in her mouth.

“I’m okay. You don’t need to be gentle with me.” Her words come out breathy.

I exhale, pulling away from her. “No, you’re not okay at all. And with what I want to do to you, you definitely need all your strength.”

I grit my teeth and rinse the rest of her before quickly lathering my feet and legs. If we were both naked in here, I don’t know that I could resist slipping myself inside of her, even with her concussion. She watches me, mercifully still not touching me.

I reach for a towel and dry her off, moving quickly so I don’t get distracted by her body again.

I wrap her up before drying myself. I remove just my T-shirt, stripping down to my boxers. Her eyes widen as she takes in my torso. The erection I’ve been sporting is still standing at attention, getting more painful and annoying by the minute.

“You need some help with that?” she asks.

Baby, I wish.

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