Page 59 of Not That Complicated

I gaped harder as he turned and sauntered back into the bathroom. I hurriedly looked away before I got caught staring at his arse.

The water hissed on as I got back into bed. It pattered against the tub for a few seconds, then it quieted.

Adam must have stepped under the flow, I thought.

He’d be blocking it with his body. The water would cascade over his broad shoulders and wide, firm chest before lovingly dripping down the curves of those sleek muscles I’d seen, and—oh no.

I squirmed against the mattress.

I was getting hard.

This was terrible timing.

I hadn’t had even a twitch earlier when I was bundled up in his arms, or when I was sucking on his finger or his cutlery. My chest had hollowed out with arousal and my heart had spasmed once or twice, but an erection had been very much not on the cards. I was thirty-two, stressed out to the max, had been brutally interrogated (fine, very firmly interviewed) and left hanging around in a police station for hours, and whenever I closed my eyes, I saw the dead guy.

None of the aforementioned was conducive to sexy thoughts, even with Adam’s warmth and proximity.

It was one thing when he was eating cheesecake in his baggy sweatshirt and his socks with fluffy sheep on then. That was safe. The sexuality was contained. Well, as contained as Adam’s sexuality ever got, which wasn’t saying much.

But now it was unleashed. Now, he was dripping wet and naked in the shower.

Possibly having a wank.

I strained my ears, even while telling myself not to be such a pervert.

If he was doing anything, I concluded after hearing nothing more than the gentle fall of water, he was being remarkably quiet about it.

He’d said it to wind me up, hadn’t he? I—

My scurrying thoughts screeched to a halt when I heard a faint gasp.

...did I?

It came again. I had to listen hard to catch it, but yes. There. A deep, heavy breath, pulled up short with an abrupt hitch. I sat up, eyes wide.

He really was in there pleasuring himself, wasn’t he?

A soft, shuddering moan drifted from the bathroom. A rumblingmmm. My cheeks scorched with heat. My stomach tightened.

“Ah,” he gasped softly. “Ah, ah, ahh.”

Oh my god.

The water shut off.

I dived under the cover and dragged a pillow over my face. All was dark, muffled and quiet. Despite this, I was so electrified and aware of Adam that I didn’t even startle when he sat on the bed by my hip, rolling me toward him.

“Are you naked?” I asked.

He pulled lightly at the pillow. “If you want to talk to me, you’ll have to come out from under there.”

I flung the pillow off but kept my eyes closed. “Are you naked?”

“Stark bollock naked.”

I looked. Okay? I looked. “You liar.”

He grinned. The large fluffy white towel was properly applied, wrapped low around his hips. Low enough that I was treated to the sight of his flat, muscled abdomen and the trail of coppery gold hair that started below his belly button. “Do you want me to be naked, Ray?” He set his palms flat on the mattress and leaned back.

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