Page 64 of Play Fake
“Yes. I just got a little distracted, or a lot distracted, I guess.”
“I like you when you’re distracted.”
He kisses me again, and then picks me up like I weigh nothing, spins us around, and deposits me in the shower playfully. The hot water feels tepid against my heated skin, and I step back to make room for him. He gets in and leans back into the stream of water, letting it course over him. Rivulets falling over and trailing down all the hard lines of his body. I can’t help but stare, taking in every second I can. If this is the end of us, I’m enjoying it while I have it.
After a few seconds, he leans out, scrubbing a hand over his face to push the water off and grabs me by the waist to switch places with me.
“Probably going to want to lose those, though.” He nods to my underwear that I’d forgotten because I was too focused on him. They’re plastered to me, and it necessitates me dragging them down my legs, which he watches like a strip show, grinning at the achingly slow process and watching every move I make down to hanging them on the towel rack to dry.
“Soap?” I hold out my hand with a grin.
“You’re gonna have to use mine…” he pulls the bottle off the shelf and squirts a small amount into my hand.
“As long as it isn’t one of those awful—“ I raise my hand up to smell it, and I realize it’s the scent I always smell when he’s around. “This! This is what it is. Why you always smell so good.”
He laughs at my discovery.
“What kind is it? Let me see the label.”
“Why? Going to start using it yourself?”
“No, but I… just want to know.”
There is no good answer to that question, especially not the honest one that wouldn’t sound wildly stalkery or girlfriendish.
“Uh, huh…” he turns the bottle for me to see the label, and I make a mental note to buy and stash a bottle somewhere in the house. For science.
We both get lathered and rinsed. Then he hands me shampoo.
“I feel like I also need to write down whatever this is because you should be sharing with women whatever makes your hair so damn gorgeous.” I tease him.
“You like my hair, huh?”
“Yeah. It suits you. Plus, the whole Thor thing. Really sells it.”
We trade places again so he can rinse his hair, and I did not know such a simple activity could be so sexy. But the way his traps and delts move as he rinses it are practically mesmerizing. He rubs the water out of his eyes, and they lock on me.
“You keep looking at me like that and I’m going to fuck you right here. And I was really hoping to at least make it out of the shower.”
I bite my lip, trying to suppress the smirk I feel coming on.
“I’m sorry. You’re just like… so fucking beautiful. It’s hard not to stare. Fuck, I sound fucking stupid, don’t I? Your body’s just unreal, is all.” I give a small shrug.
He reaches out and pulls me against him, the soap still in my hair creating a little swirl of bubbly water where our chests meet.
“Not stupid at all. You just really know how to say the right things.” He studies me, and he tightens his grip on me, one hand going to my ass where he massages it tenderly, almost like an absent habit.
“Just being honest,” I say softly, studying his face.
“Is that what we’re doing?” He answers me in a similarly muted tone.
“Always the best policy, right?”
He gives a half nod.
“Then I should tell you I can’t stop thinking about you. Kissing you, tasting you, fucking you.”
“Me either,” I confess.
