Page 25 of Red, White, and You

“The shower isn’t really built for two, but I think wecould make it work.”

I bark out a laugh, then cover my mouth. “I’ve been in that shower, Brady, and there’s barely room for one person.”

He inclines his head. “Ladies first.”

Without moving toward the bathroom, I unwrap my cover-up and let it slip to the floor.

Brady gives a low whistle. “That wholeBaywatchthing…”—he waves toward my red one-piece—“it’s pretty spectacular.”

“Thank you.” I pull one strap down off my shoulder, then the other, leaving the bathing suit at my waist, and smiling at the way his eyes flare with lust. “We rinsed off at the dock. I guess we could always shower… after.”

Brady’s gaze flicks up to my eyes, then he charges toward me, bends at the waist, and scoops me into his arms. I squeal as I wrap my arms around his neck, holding on as he strides into the small bathroom. He reaches past me to turn on the water, then carefully places me beneath the stream once it’s warm.

I sigh and lean my head back, enjoying the hot water on muscles that are quickly becoming quite sore.

Brady peels my swimsuit down and helps me step out of it, then positions himself in the doorway of the shower. It’s not built for two, but as I watch him kneel, I realize his plan and my breath catches in my throat as desire pools between my legs.

“Open up, baby,” he commands, looking up at me with those deep blue eyes.

I do as I’m told, leaning back against the opposite wall and spreading my legs for him.

The warm water hits my shoulder and cascades down my side, filling the bathroom with steam and quickly removing any chill from the air.

Or maybe it’s just that my skin is heated, flushed beneath Brady’s gaze.

He runs his hands from my knees to my hips, massaging my tender thighs, and I moan, closing my eyes. The pressure is perfect, enough to ease the tension in my muscles but not so much that it hurts.

Brady lifts one leg and props it over his shoulder, then he presses his face between my thighs. He runs his tongue up the seam of my lips, and I whimper, opening my eyes to look down at him as he does it again, in a teasing, slow lick. When he winks and sucks my clit into his mouth, I buck in response to the sharp jolt of pleasure he sends to my core. Brady hums against my skin, pressing his face harder against me as he begins to work his tongue, quickly workingmeinto a heated mess of need and desperation.

He grasps my hip with one hand, then brings the other between my legs, slipping a thick finger inside me. He slides in and out, slowly massaging me and working my opening until he can slip another finger inside. He pushes them deep until his knuckles fight against my opening, then curls them, brushing against the sensitive spot that will soon have me shaking around him. He licks and sucks my clit as he rhythmically pulses his fingertips against my g-spot, and I brace myself with a palm on each wall of the small shower.

Brady’s fingers increase sped, pumping into me quickly now, pushing me—no,pullingme—to the edge with rapid demand. Each curl of his fingers drags me closer, closer to the edge. Each flick of his tongue threatens to undo me where I stand.

My legs begin to shake. My muscles tense. Tremble.

He slips his fingers out and grabs my thigh, lifting my left leg up to join my right, holding my weight on his shoulders. Ipress my back against the wall as he grips my ass, plunging his tongue into my pussy. He presses his nose against my clit and moves his head back and forth ferociously as he tongue-fucks me to the finish line.

I shake and shudder as the orgasm claims me, flexing my palms against the walls to keep from falling into a heap on top of him.

“Brady,” I breathe. Beg.Plead.

He moans against me and the vibration sends electricity rocking through my core.

“Oh God,” I cry out, “oh myGod!” My body jerks with each wave of pleasure. Tenses, then relaxes, then tenses again. Stars burst behind my eyes.

My thighs flex around his head, stealing the very air he breathes, and still he pumps harder with his tongue, feeding on me like he no longer needs air.

As the tremors begin to subside, he licks me slower, each leisurely stroke of his tongue now a gentle caress rather than a command.

I’m practically comatose when Brady places first one of my feet on the ground, then the other, then stands up to kiss the tip of my nose. He squeezes into the tiny shower stall and maneuvers me under the flow of water. I lean forward and rest my head on his chest while he pulls the rubber band free of my hair, then slowly and delicately unravels my braid.

He washes my hair, then gingerly washes my body, and when he begins to massage conditioner into the ends of my hair, I look up at him.

His gaze meets mine and he smiles. “You look exhausted, Breezy.”

I nod. “I am.”

“Let’s get you to bed.” He runs his fingers through my hair, rinsing out the excess conditioner, then reaches behind me to turn off the shower. He slips out of the shower and dries off quickly, then wraps me up in a towel and carries me to the bed.

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