Page 117 of Faking the Pass
“Okay,” she said quietly.
Moving behind her, I reached for the hem of the t-shirt she wore and slowly pulled it upward. Rosie didn’t stop me this time, raising her arms to allow me to undress her.
Though I’d promised us both it wouldn’t be, the experience was a major turn on.
Even Rosie’s back was sexy, smooth and curved-in at the waist.
She still had her panties on, and I wasn’t going to fight her on it if she wanted to shower in them. They didn’t cover that much anyway.
Andof courseI was looking. What was I going to do—close my eyes?
From my position behind her, Rosie’s ass on the bench was a perfect peach, round and juicy. I’d have given anything in this moment for a taste.
My mouth literally watered.
How was I going to spend several more weeks—possibly months—living with this woman and not be able to have her the way I wanted to?
Since I didn’t eat sugar, I never had the kind of food cravings I heard other people talk about. But Rosie’s sweetness was turning me into the worst kind of junkie.
Maybe that was what my problem was—she was an addictive substance, and the hits I’d taken on the island had hooked me for life.
Now I did avert my eyes as promised. I was only making it harder on myself by watching the water and soap suds slide down that silky skin.
I started going over NFL QB stats to distract myself.
Tom Brady. 89,214 career passing yards. Six hundred forty-nine touchdowns.
Drew Brees. 80,358 career passing yards. Five hundred seventy-one touchdowns.
Peyton Manning. 71,940 career passing yards. Five hundred thirty-nine TDs.
“Do you think you could help me with my hair?” Rosie asked, interrupting my mantra and yanking me right back into the present moment of painful temptation.
Her hair was foamy with shampoo.
“Um, yeah. What do you want me to do?”
“I can’t reach the hand sprayer to rinse it, and I don’t want to lean forward again to get my head directly in the stream. It made me kind of nauseous before when I did that to wet my hair.”
“Oh sure.”
Taking a step to the side, I grabbed the hand sprayer from its hook on the shower wall. I did my best not to look directly at the front of her body while doing it, but my peripheral vision was definitely living its best life.
Once I was safely behind her again, I pushed the button to start the flow of water and directed it at the back of her head.
“Tilt back a little so I can get the front of your hair,” I said. “I won’t let you fall.”
Rosie complied, leaning back slightly and raising her chin so the stream of water hit the top of her forehead.
And now I was getting a clear overhead shot of the front of her body. Her beautiful breasts gleamed in the shower lights, wet and delicious and begging for my mouth to cover them.
Her nipples, reacting to the water striking them, were pink and tight, and that mouthwatering situation was only getting worse.
Delving my hands into Rosie’s hair, I lifted the heavy sections, exposing them to the flow of water and rinsing them.
It was the most I’d been allowed to touch her since we’d returned from our honeymoon, and it was surprisingly erotic.
It was also not nearly enough. My entire body was tense, and my hands were literally trembling with desire.
