Grabbing a pair of shorts from the dresser, I strip down to my boxer briefs, tossing my dirty clothes in the portable hamper in the closet. I place my watch on the dresser top beside my wallet and carefully slip out of the room. The bifold is pulled closed so I quietly slip over to the main door and make sure it’s locked. I should definitely not be walking around in my underwear, but everyone is asleep, so I don’t worry too much. Besides, not the first time I’ve been busted in my underwear in public.
But that’s a story for another time.
As quiet as a mouse, I slip past the door for Lena’s space and approach the bathroom. One of the main reasons I chose this motorhome over the others was because it had one big bathroom, as opposed to two tiny ones. I felt the bigger shower stall and more wiggle room to get ready was the way to go. Besides, you never know when that bigger shower will come in handy…
I’m grinning as I reach for the knob and pull on the door. I’m so lost in the dirty images parading through my mind, I don’t even notice the light. Or the water running. Or the very naked woman standing in front of me.
But I notice now.
All of it.
It’s like my fantasy brought to life.
Chapter Eleven
Lena
The moment the door is pulled open, I freeze. There’s only one person who could have opened that door. The cooler air from the main living space kisses my flushed skin, and I can feel his eyes rake over my body.
Like a kiss.
A quick glance over my shoulder confirms my suspicions. Mack is just staring at my backside, openly gawking at my nakedness. I open my mouth to say something clever, something witty, but nothing comes out. Instead, I just watch him, as he watches me.
When our eyes finally meet, his burn with a fire I haven’t seen in a long time. Three years, to be exact. It burns my skin and sears my soul. “I should apologize for bursting in on you.” He takes a step into the room, the door automatically swinging closed behind him. “I should turn around and give you the privacy you deserve.” Another step forward. He’s so close now. I can smell his cologne, feel the heat from his skin.
Mack reaches his hand up. There’s a slight tremble in his fingers as he gently slides them down my cheek. I’m pretty sure I’m not breathing, anticipation stronger than my need for oxygen.
“I shouldn’t want to kiss you right now,” he rasps, his fingers trailing down my neck.
I find myself leaning into his touch as goosebumps pepper my exposed skin. My hand slides around his side, reveling in the heat of his skin beneath my own fingers. “Maybe you should ignore that part of your brain,” I croak as I press my naked chest against his, “and just kiss me.”
He does. Hard. His lips are demanding, bruising as he moves me, my back pressing firmly against the shower stall. Water pelts us in the face, but it doesn’t seem to slow us down any. All I can feel is his lips, his hands, oh and his very impressive erection, sandwiched between our bodies.
My hands are everywhere, exploring and reacquainting myself with the man he became. He’s harder than before, and no, I’m not talking about his impressive hard-on. I’m talking about his body. His arms, his chest, his abs, hell, even his thighs. Mack from three years ago had taken care of his body, but Mack of today is like a god chiseled from granite. Perfection in human form.
When he rips his lips from mine, his heavily lidded eyes rake over my body. I can feel his gaze, like a caress to my skin, as if they were to physically touch me like the water cascading down my torso. A part of me is self-conscious. I’ve only been naked in front of a man once since my time with Mack, and it was never like this.
All-consuming.
His eyes return to mine with a parade of emotions, but they’re pushed aside quickly. All I can see now is lust. Long fingers glide across my throat and angle downward. I hold my breath as he reaches the valley between my breasts. Anticipation burns through my veins, his eyes blazing a trail of heat as he follows the trek down my chest.
“All I could think about tonight was you.” He doesn’t move his hand to touch my breasts, and the question is written on his face. He’s seeking permission.
To touch me.
A million things fly through my mind, but I just keep going back to one of them: I want him. So that’s why I shift, causing his hand to brush against my breast. A warm tingle sweeps through my body as his eyes dance with desire. My nipples pebble under the warm water and his piercing gaze.
“Mack?” I whisper. “Touch me.”
One thing I’ve always loved about Mack Cruz is you never have to ask him twice. His calloused hands cup my breasts, his skilled fingers pinching my nipples. Waves of pleasure sweep through me as I reach out and slip a finger into the waistband of his wet boxer briefs. Mack’s free hand glides along my side and slips behind my back until it settles on my ass.
I can’t help but smirk up at him. “You’ve always been an ass man.”
He lets out a snort. “True, but I believe it’s more accurate to say I’ve always been a Lena man.”
And then he kisses me, hard and fast. Our hands are everywhere, our bodies starting to speak to one another. He lifts me easily, my legs snaking around his waist. The movement causes glorious friction of his erection right where I need it. My pussy throbs, each thrust of his hips bringing me closer and closer to release,
