Page 24 of Snowed In with her Mountain Men
Holy shit.
Furtively, I watched over my shoulder. Ryder raised one arm and then the other, lathering the slick muscles of his big, striated arms before scrubbing his ribcage on either side. I peeked back as he washed his face, his neck, his chest. When he finally slid those hands over that yummy-looking array of sculpted abdominals, I just couldn’t take my eyes from them.
“See anything you like?”
I whipped my head back so fast my hair spun in a wet tornado. I couldn’t believe he caught me looking!
“You wish.”
Ryder laughed, and his deep, masculine laughter echoed in the tiled enclosure.
“It’s okay if you look,” he told me. “I’m looking too.”
I could’ve left. In retrospect I should’ve left; the moment he’d entered the shower. Something stopped me, though. Maybe it was the nagging idea that somehow, leaving was akin to surrender.
Besides, why should I leave? I was here first.
With that in mind I went back to finishing my shower, letting my own hands slowly roam wherever the lather took them. Was I putting on a show? Maybe. But at times, when I’d turn just the right way and the steam between us would temporarily part… I was looking too.
I was halfway through my routine when I felt the presence behind me. Ryder’s hand slid casually to my hip, as he leaned forward with the opposite arm and reached around my body.
“Sorry, back brush.”
He took the tool from the bench on my side of the enclosure. Suddenly motionless, I watched his hand close over the long, wooden handle.
“Unless you want to do it for me?”
The question emerged as a whisper, barely an inch away from my ear. Even through the swirling steam, I could feel the heat of his breath.
“Or if you want, I could do yours?”
His voice was so gravelly, so sexy, it sent shivers rocketing through my body. The feel of his hand on my hip was absolutely electric. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t—
“Okay.”
Holy FUCK! Somehow the word had escaped my lips, completely unbidden, totally unwanted.
Unwanted? Really?
I heard the back brush clatter to the tiled floor, and a second hand joined the first. And then suddenly those hands were moving, touching, kneading. They were running themselves up my back and over my shoulders, working the lather already gathered on his palms into my skin.
“Hand me the soap.”
The words held very little meaning; that’s how lost I was, in the moment. Somehow I reached out and did it anyway, noticing that my arm trembled.
“Wow, you’re tense.”
I wouldn’t have known. All I could think about were those two impossibly strong hands, and the happiness they were now delivering. They glided over my naked back, thumbs digging in gently as they drove every ounce of stiffness from my body. Pleasure flooded in to take its place, filling every nook and cranny where the tension had left. I wanted him to go on forever. To not only do my back, but to rub every last inch of my quivering body, until I was a straight puddle of warm euphoria, mixing in with the water; swirling down the drain.
Ryder leaned in, kneading my tired trapezius muscles, my deltoids, and eventually, my neck. And then without warning, our bodies were melding together. I could feel his hard chest, brushing against my skin. His shower-warm thighs, pressing gently against the backs of mine.
And then I could feel somethingelse..
HOLY SHIT.
The hard, thick knot between his legs became trapped between us. It pressed itself against the small of my back, growing even longer and thicker with the friction of our soap-slick bodies.
Before I could balk, Ryder made his move.
