Page 17 of The Last Key
I gasp and lean back against the wall, letting myself live out the fantasy with my own fingers, but with my eyes tightly shut, I pretend it’s him. His fingers darting in and out of me. The tip of his thumb working my clit. Bracing the wall with one hand, I breathe out heavily, biting my lip.
Oh god. Yes.
No matter how hard I try, I can’t hold back my moans.
They get louder until I have to clamp a hand over my mouth, my body jerking and my knees nearly buckling as I come.
Leaning against the shower wall, I slide down, gasping for breath.
“Kennedy?” There’s a quick knock at the door. “Are you okay in there?”
Shit. How much of that did he hear?
“Yeah. I’m fine.”Just getting myself off and pretending it was you.At least I didn’t scream his name. “I was just… singing.”
Sure, that’s believable.
“Okay…”
“I’ll be out in a minute.”
It’s silent for a moment, then he says, “Take your time.” His voice is almost sultry, like he has an idea why I need a minute.
What am I doing?
Forcing myself upright, I stand on shaking legs and finish showering.
Once I’m done, I climb out and wrap a towel around my hair and another around my body, then promptly realize… I forgot to grab clothes.
At least I don’t have to walk down the hall dripping wet. Iswing open the door, which leads back into the master, and peek out. Seeing the room is empty, I walk over to the dresser, holding the towel in place as I bend over. Not sure where Devon is. Maybe I scared him away with my moans.
Or maybe he went to jack off.
“Kennedy?” Devon’s choked voice comes from the other side of the room. I stand and spin around to face him.
Or maybe he went to the kitchen for a glass of water and is now staring at me standing in a skimpy towel.
“Sorry. I was so excited for my shower that I forgot to grab clothes.”
“That’s fine.” But his voice is hoarse and squeaky. Then his eyes trail down my body. For the briefest of moments, I consider dropping the towel. What would he do if I did? Attack me? Take me right here against the dresser?
I’m getting hot all over again.
I need to get out of here.
“I’ll be right back.”
I skitter back into the bathroom and quickly finish drying off. I run a comb through my hair, planning to let it air dry overnight. I can style it tomorrow. Then I slide on my underwear. I’m reaching for my shirt, when I see one of Devon’s Brighton High shirts hanging off the hook on the bathroom door. Smiling to myself, I forgo my tee and shorts and instead slide on his shirt. It’s big on me and falls just past my ass.
He had quite a reaction to seeing me in a towel. Time to see how he feels about me wearing his shirt.
I strut out of the bathroom, my other clothes under my arm, and quickly toss them back into the drawer. As I shut it, Devon looks up from his phone. He’s shirtless on the bed, and I’m enjoying those defined pecs and abs.
“Is that my shirt?” he croaks.
“Yeah. That okay? It’s comfy,” I say innocently.
He rises from the bed and moves closer, taking me in. The faintest smirk appears on his lips.
