Page 64 of Tempt Me

“You into that?” she asked.

“I don’t know. I never have been before.” Once or twice, a guy had put his hand on my throat, but I’d batted it away, sure I wasn’t a fan of sexual asphyxiation. But Jamila’s hands were different, softer, trustworthy. “Maybe I could be. Are you?”

“Not really. But we could try it later.”

I liked the sound oflater.It held a promise that casual with Jamila wouldn’t be limited to once or twice like all my other hookups had been.

She slicked her hands over my right shoulder and down my arm, all the way to my fingertips. Then she repeated the movement on my left shoulder and arm. Her gentle touch felt like sunshine, like rain, like the lap of warm ocean waves. It was not enough, yet it was too much, all at the same time.

I held my breath as her soapy hands hovered over my chest.

“Turn,” she said.

Shuffling around until the water hit my chest, I let the spray wash the lather from my arms. Again, she started at my neck, not simply washing off the sunscreen but kneading the muscles until I felt boneless enough to wash down the drain alongside the soapy water. Next, she washed my upper back, again massaging my shoulders and shoulder blades. She continued down the column of my spine with delicious pressure.

When she reached my lower back, she rubbed a circle at the base of my spine. I shivered.

“That’s the spot,” she said. “You’re like a cat.”

“A cat?”

“They like being scratched right above their tails. Growing up, we’d sneak food out to the stray cats on our back porch. That was their favorite spot.”

I wiggled my butt to make the most of the sensation. “I can see why.”

She slicked both hands down my glutes, and I gasped.

“Aha. You’re an ass girl. Wouldn’t have thought. Maybe you like a little spanking with your breath play.”

“Spanking?” That sounded pretty demeaning. “I don’t think—”

Smack.She didn’t whack me hard, but the sound reverberated off the tile and glass. Tiny shockwaves echoed up my spine. I gasped.

“Oh, you don’t?” she asked casually.

It wasn’t just water slicking between my legs now. I squeezed the muscles of my pelvic floor. “Maybe.”

She chuckled. “Turn.”

I spun so fast I slipped, but Jamila caught my elbow. “Careful, baby girl.”

She refilled her palm with the soap then smoothed it over my collarbones, onto my chest, and then, skipping my breasts, over my stomach. I sucked it in, wishing it were as toned as hers.

“None of that,” she said. “I like how soft you are. Relax.”

I did, enjoying the beat of the water on the back muscles Jamila had massaged.

She ran a fingertip around my breast. “Does it sting?”

“What?”

“Your sunburn.” She glided a finger over the side of my breast.

“No. Feels nice.”

She traced around my breast with two fingers. Then finally, finally, she brushed her thumbs over my nipples. I groaned.

She repeated the move, more firmly. Sensation rocketed down to my core, putting it on full alert. My muscles clenched. She thumbed my nipples again.

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