I get a good eyeful of his firm backside before he glides into the hot water. I bend over and turn on the jets and watch the bubbles maneuver around Knox’s strong body. When I remove my own underwear, he lays his head back and closes his eyes with a groan. I step into the water carefully and stand over him, reaching for my purse. “Open your eyes, Knox.”
When I pull out the condom, he chuckles, showing me the one in his hand. “I guess we both came prepared this time.”
“I guess we did.”
He slides the condom on and starts to stand, but I hold on to the shower rod and place one foot on his chest, shaking my head. His eyes are dark and lust-filled, and he runs a hand up the leg holding him down.
I linger there for a few moments, our eyes linked as he strokes my leg, water sensually gliding down from his caressing hand.
I remove my foot and bend on one knee, balancing myself over his erection which is straining toward me, like it has its own will. I look at his face, and he’s gazing exactly where I wanted him focused. As I lower myself down his shaft, he bites his lip and grabs my hips, watching my slow descent the entire time.
Knox’s cock stretches and fills me, and I feel like I momentarily lose consciousness because then we’re moving together and I can’t remember starting. My skin is hyper-sensitive wherever he touches, licks, sucks. Our movements are in lustful sync, and my insides are on fire.
I lean down and when our lips and tongue connect, it’s my undoing. The orgasm hits out of nowhere as my clit rubs perfectly against him. I ride it out with delicious wonderment.
When I come down, Knox pulls out. His gravelly voice says, “Turn around.” He moves my boneless body around to where I’m positioned on my knees, grasping the lip of the tub. The warm bubbles charge against my already sensitive skin and when he enters me from behind, I gasp.
He moves slowly at first, kissing the back of my neck, reaching around to caress my breasts, then something changes. His movements are more urgent and his fingers move to my clit, circling and pinching.
“Yes, that’s it, Knox.”
Soon he’s pounding into me and his breath is ragged against my ear. “Jesus, Rowan.”
My release comes again, expected this time, but no less satisfying. Knox lets go with me with one forceful push, hanging onto my hips, the spasm of his cock vibrating inside me.
After taking care of the condom, he pulls me back with him in the tub, positioning me on top of him, my back to his front. I never want to move from this spot, cooling water be damned.
*
We take the BART to Berkeley alone. Knox says Declan’s too good for public transportation and is taking a ride-share instead. Weston decided to ride with him. Which is fine because it’s nearly an hour ride and we have to change trains twice plus have his cousin pick us up from the station. The more alone time I spend with Knox, the better.
I’m wearing a white sundress today because the weather should be milder in Berkeley. It’s June after all. I brought a sweater though, because we still have to go back to the city and I have no idea what time we’ll return. Knox opted for dark jeans and a long-sleeve Round Rock Express baseball shirt. I tried to convince him that it would be warmer where we’re going but he said he knows better than me.
When we get off at the North Berkeley station, there’s a midnight-blue Tesla waiting for us. I turn to Knox before getting in the back and whisper, “Loaded on both sides I see.”
He grins and shrugs, and shuts my door. If I thought he’d be embarrassed about coming from money, I must have forgotten who I’m dealing with.
I watch the cousins hug in the front seat, then they turn toward me. “Rowan, this is my cousin, Carlo. Carlo, this is my girlfriend, Rowan.” It could be my imagination, but it sounded like he put a bit of emphasis on “girlfriend.”
Carlo reaches over the seat to shake my hand. “It’s nice to meet you after all this time.”
I shake his hand, but Knox talks over him before I can ask what he means. While they chat, I compare them. Carlo is handsome in a classic way: straight nose, green eyes, thick dark hair; but he’s not as pretty as Knox or either of his brothers. He’s nowhere near as tall either, probably closer to my height, although I can’t be sure since he’s sitting down. And although his hair is dark, it’s not as inky black as Knox’s either, plus his is straight where Knox’s is curly. His skin color is much darker than Knox’s too. Knox’s skin is fair with olive undertones whereas Carlo’s is closer to the color of my skin only his is more olive where mine is golden. It interests me to compare the differences, because I’ve never seen a picture of Knox’s mother and he doesn’t look anything like Flynn except in height. Flynn is Irish and Welsh, but his boys didn’t pull any of those typical Celtic genetic traits.
We pull up to a surprisingly modest stucco house with a small front yard. There’s a driveway with a large wooden gate, and Carlo pulls the Tesla up to it on one side. I figured he was going to get out and open it, but he cuts the engine. “Home sweet home.” He jumps out of the car before Knox undoes his seat belt, and opens the door for me. It’s on the opposite side from where I’m sitting, so I scoot across the faux-leather seat and take his proffered hand to help me out.
Knox makes it around the car and punches his cousin in the arm, then grabs my hand to stroll up
