Page 21 of Wild For You

Chapter Seven

Cash

The shower’s running. I can hear it through the closed door that’s standing between us.

Oh, wait. It’s not the shower. The flow is heavier and steadier, like a mad rush.

Erin’s taking a bath…in my bathroom.

The knowledge excites me, arouses me.

It’s pure deliciousness.

Letting out a low groan, I imagine her naked legs propped up against the wall of the tub. Her soft skin covered in thousands of bubbles. Her head thrown back. Maybe a hand between her legs, stroking herself.

Damn!

The thought of her fingers inside her tight little pussy is both hot and undeniably painful.

I’m pulsating with want. My balls are heavy and bursting, begging for release. I’m undoubtedly attracted to her. Wanting her when I should hate her. Getting all worked up just because a damn woman is using my bathroom, possibly masturbating.

Maybe she’s imagining me while she’s doing it.

The odds are definitely in my favor. I’ve met my fair share of women and recognize the signs of someone being attracted to me.

Holding my breath, I fight the urge to storm right in there and get a reaction from her. Maybe even force her to acknowledge our attraction.

My cock twitches, reminding me that both Miss Prissy and I would benefit from a little action between the sheets right now.

The faucet is turned off.

I’m waiting for a moan, a scream, maybe even something vibrating. I’m begging for an image, for a clue—anything that would keep my mind busy for the next few nights.

“Cash.” Erin’s voice carries over. “Don’t even pretend you’re not standing in front of the door like a creep because Iknowyou’re out there.”

I bang my head against the door, heaving a dramatic sigh. “What gave me away?”

There is a small pause. I can hear her shifting in the water, splashing it around. “Your shadow. You realize how creepy you are, right?”

My lips twitch. “Creepier than the fact you’re using my bathroom without asking?”

“Admit it. You didn’t give me a choice. Do you have any idea how frustrating it is to arrive home dirty, and you can’t even wash your hands?”

More frustrating than having blue balls? I want to ask. Or that I’m dying here trying to imagine her naked?

My hands grab the door handle, readying myself in case she gives me the go-ahead sign. “Let me come in, Erin.”

There’s a short pause before she replies, “Absolutely not.”

“Fine.” I lean against the door, my shoulder resting against the wood. “In that case, we need to talk.”

“About what?”

“I don’t know how to make it clear to you that I want you to quit your job.”

She lets out a groan that unfortunately doesn’t resemble the moan I’ve been waiting for—not even in my wildest fantasies. The water sloshes around the tub. A few seconds later, the door opens. It’s only a slit but I can make out that her hair’s wet and one of my towels is wrapped around her glorious body.

For an instant, all I can think about is that I want to be that towel.

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