Page 97 of Kentrell

I opened the shower door, letting a cold whoosh of air rush in behind me.

She shrieked and then giggled. “Kentrell!”

I didn’t let her finish.

I pulled her into me, soaking up the warmth of her body and crushing my mouth against hers. Her slick skin slid against mine, the water hitting my back as I kissed her deep, tongue searching hers like I’d never tasted her before.

She moaned into my mouth, wrapping her arms around my shoulders.

And just like that, I was home again.

Her mouth was still on mine, her body slick and soft in my arms, the steam swirling around us like we were the only two people on earth.

I reached past her and grabbed one of her body washes off the built-in shelf—some shit with vanilla and coconut on the label—then took the loofa right out of her hand.

“I already cleaned myself,” she said, giving me that fake little frown like she thought she had a say.

“I’ma do it again.”

She didn’t argue.

Didn’t flinch.

Just stood there and let me work.

I lathered up slow, dragging the loofa down her chest, circling each breast with care. She shivered when I brushed across her nipples, and I didn’t miss the way her thighs pressed closer together.

Then I dropped lower.

Over her hips.

Between her legs.

I cleaned hereverywhere—soft strokes, focused, deliberate—watching her squirm under my touch, chest rising and falling with each pass.

By the time I was done, she was flushed and damn near panting.

I handed her the loofa back, kissed her softly, then turned her toward the door and popped her ass just enough to make it bounce.

“Go get me a towel.”

She giggled, stepping out with a little sway in her hips. “Anything else?”

She leaned back in through the cracked shower door, her smile playful.

“You gon’ wash me up?” I asked, raising a brow.

To my surprise, she nodded. “Yeah.”

She stepped back in, warm water still running as she lathered her hands first, then slid them over my chest. Her touch was gentle but sure, like she was learning me in real time. Every line. Every muscle.

She washed me the way I washed her—intimate.

Purposeful.

And when she kissed me mid-rinse, I almost lost the rest of my restraint.

We rinsed off again, and when she went to turn the water off, I caught her by the waist and lifted her with both arms. She let out a little yelp, wrapping her arms around my shoulders.

---