Page 71 of Coming In Hot
I scowl at the shower, glaring at the nozzle like it’s personally insulted me. “Why, God? Why are you fucking with me like this?”
Pharo creeps up behind me, in nothing but black briefs. His teasing voice caresses my ear, making me shiver. “Life is a lot like my dick. Short until it gets hard, and then it seems very long. Is your day feelingvery long, Jax?”
Fuck. How does he do that? How does he come off so smooth and make everything about his dick? Did he go to some class for that—How to be a player 101?
I roll my eyes, but there's no hiding the grin that forms at the corner of my mouth. Despite the absurdity of the situation, I kind of like that we’re both embracing the ridiculousness of it all. “You have no idea how long, Pharo.”
Finally, after a few more frustrated twists of the knob, the water bursts to life. Peeling off my wet pants, I step under the warm spray and breathe out a sigh of relief.
I lean my head back, letting the warm water soothe my stiff muscles, despite the weirdness of this place. Sometimes, it’s the most messed-up situations that make you laugh the hardest.
If we’d ended up at a swank hotel in a suite with a plush bed and soft robes, I’d probably feel even more nervous. This hillbilly hideaway from hell? Yeah, we could deal with this. It takes the emphasis off of us.
Pharo steps into the tiny stall, crowding me from behind. He reaches over me to adjust the shower head to accommodate his towering height. His hard cock pushes against my ass, and I realize we’re at the perfect height to fuck standing up.
He wraps his arm around my chest, pulling me close. “It makes sense to share. Who knows how long the hot water will last.”
He has a point.
The only bar of soap in the shower has already been opened and used, so that’s out of the question. I reach for the shampoo, pretending it’s an acceptable substitute. Pharo takes the bottle from me, and while I’m soaping my chest and belly, I feel his fingers in my hair. He massages my scalp with soft strokes and works my hair into a sudsy lather. His hands shape my spiky ends into an exaggerated mohawk.
“Have I ever told you how much I like your hair?”
“Uh, no? Not sure you’ve ever given me a compliment of any kind.”
“How rude of me.” He breathes over my ear, and I shiver and press back against his solid chest. “I’ve thought of them many times in my head.” The gentle scratching over my scalp has me hypnotized. “I’ve thought about your tight ass, how perfectly round it is. I’ve thought about your talent at knitting beanies,” he chuckles. “And I’ve admired your skills at breaking and entering.”
Are we flirting? Fuck, this feels stranger than the decor in the lobby.
“Come on, Jaxy, play along,” Pharo urges, nipping the shell of my ear.
Letting my eyelids drift closed, I rest my head against his chest and give myself over to his magical hands. “I’ve noticed your eyes. They’re… unique.”
“My eyes? Is that all?”
“And that little smirky-smirk you do. It feels… dangerous.”
Pharo’s fingers pause for a split second, and I can practically feel the grin spread across his face. “Dangerous, huh? Guess I’ll have to keep you on your toes then.” His voice drops an octave, and I feel a flicker of heat flare up.
“Is that a threat, or are you just that good at flattery?” I reply, trying to sound casual, but I can already tell I’m losing the fight against whatever this is between us.
“You’ll figure it out,” he murmurs, leaning in just enough for his breath to warm my ear. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you. This could be dangerous for both of us.”
It already is. I’m in danger of realizing I actuallylikePharo.
I shiver involuntarily, and for the briefest of moments, I want to lean into him even more, to feel that smirk against my skin and let myself get swept up in whatever this magnetic pull is. “Funny,” I say, my voice a little tighter than I intended, “I was thinking the same thing.”
His hands resume their work, but now they feel like they’re doing more than just relaxing me. They’re... claiming. His fingers glide over my skin like he’s memorizing every inch, marking me in a way that feels intentional. His touch is deliberate, lingering in places that are too personal, too close.
But hell if I don’t want more of it.
“Jaxy…” His voice is a low whisper now, teasing, coaxing. “What’s it going to be?”
I open my eyes and glance back over my shoulder, meeting his gaze—his piercing, dangerous gaze—and for the first time, I don’t feel like I need to hold back. “I don't know,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper. “But I sure as hell want to find out.”
CHAPTER25
PHARO
