Page 27 of Wild Child
He just needs a little push to convince him to give this thing between us a shot.
Which is why I’m awake before my alarm goes off. It’s dark outside and the hotel is still, but this morning I’m not hidingunder my pillow. I’m up and out of bed as soon as I hear Quentin stirring in the bathroom.
The shower turns on, and I wait for a few moments before pulling back the covers and creeping across the floor.
Yesterday I slept until my alarm went off, and he’ll assume I’m asleep now. But if I’ve timed it right, he’ll be naked in the shower right about now.
With my heart hammering in my chest, I turn the handle to the bathroom door and push it open.
The faint glow from the screen of his phone is the only light. Quentin must not have wanted to risk waking me by turning the bathroom light on. There’s a flutter in my chest at his thoughtfulness and it makes me bolder about doing what I’m about to do.
As silent as I can, I push open the door and slip into the bathroom.
He stands with his back to the door, water gushing over his muscular body. In the dim light I glimpse thick thighs, a perfect ass, and an inked back that ripples as he washes water over his face.
My breath hitches, and I forget to breathe. Heat floods my body and a sharp twinge tugs at my core. My panties dampen and my nipples stand to attention. He’s perfection.
His hardened body turns, and his eyes widen in surprise as he sees me.
The words I had planned die in my throat. I was going to pretend I needed the bathroom, but that feels lame now that I’m caught in his gaze.
There’s movement below his torso, and I look down to watch his manhood lengthen. His beautiful thick cock stands to attention and makes my pussy drip with need.
I lick my lips and swallow hard. My breathing goes shallow, and an overwhelming need to ride his thick cock makes me bold.
Before he has time to say anything, I step into the shower.
“What are you doing, Charlie?”
Quentin’s voice has a word of warning to it. My t-shirt is immediately soaked with water and sticks to my breasts. His eyes glance down at my peaked nipples, and he takes in a sharp intake of breath.
“I’m doing what you won’t.”
I take his hand and plaster it to my chest, moving his fingers so they squeeze my needy breasts. He groans and I push forward, pressing my body against his.
“I want you, Quentin. I need you.”
His eyes darken, and there’s indecision on his face. I move his hand down my body and slide it between my legs.
He groans again, and the sound combined with his touch makes me shiver.
“I need a release that only you can give.”
Quentin lets out a long shuddery breath. His hand moves between my legs, and his touch makes me whimper.
“You’re trouble, Charlotte.” His voice is croaky, and the way he says my name is like a rough caress.
His lips find mine, and the passion in them tells me how much he wants this too.
He kisses me hard, and I respond with a feeling of triumph. He pushes me backwards until I hit the shower wall. I’m caught between the hardness of the tiles and the hardness of his body. I squirm into him, flexing my hips as his palm caresses me.
The water has my t-shirt completely soaked, but he doesn’t stop to take it off. Instead he runs a hand underneath and up my body, and I arch my back as his fingers trail over my skin.
Every touch brings new heat to my body, which is made more sensitive by the hot water cascading over us.
Quentin hasn’t shaved yet, and his stubble scratches my chin as he nuzzles my neck, kissing me behind the ears.
“Tell me what you need,” he whispers into my ear, sending shivers down my body and into my core.
