This is the worst idea in history.
Holly tried not to look at Devin as she adjusted the water temperature. He was leaning against the wall, watching her. Her heart felt ready to burst from her chest any minute and a lump had formed in her throat. What in the world was she doing!
Turning her head, she locked eyes with him. Her cheeks burned hot instantly.
His arms were crossed over his chest. That irritating smirk was firmly planted on his face and he looked like the cat that ate the canary. He'd won. Just like that. He'd won.
Holly almost growled in frustration but looked away instead. She tested the water again and busied herself removing her shoes and socks. She'd have to get in with him at some point.
Inhaling deeply, she turned to him, and crossed the room. She avoided his eyes, wrapping her arm around his waist, and helping him to the shower.
It took careful manoeuvring to get him over the lip of the shower and not have him face down in the water. Who knew one sprained ankle could cause so much trouble?
He stumbled, grabbed for the wall with his free hand, and dragged her under the water with the other.
She yelled while spitting and sputtering. "Devin!"
"It was an accident!"
She looked up at him, pushing her wet hair out of her face. She could tell by the look in his eyes that it wasn't. When he smiled, she wanted to drown him.
Snatching the soap from the shelf, Holly held it out to him.
"What?" he asked.
"Wash. That's why we're here."
"And I'm suppose to do that with one hand, how?"
Holly grinned. "I'm sure you're used to using one hand for many activities. This is no different."
He laughed and took the soap. "Are you going to watch?" he asked, turning the bar in his palm a few times while holding it under the spray of water. "I'm not particular in my kinks."
"Obviously," she said, biting her cheek. She busied herself looking at anything but him or how the water ran over his back. It ran in small rivers across his shoulders, cascading down his spine and disappearing into the fabric of his jeans. What she wouldn't give to see what those blasted pants hid again.
She shook her head, steering that train of thought away. No need to go there. Especially now.
Hearing him say her name, she turned her head to him.
"Care to get my back? Or am I supposed to do that myself too?"
She wanted to say yes just to save her the embarrassment, but knew she couldn't. Even she couldn't get her back without difficulty and that was with both feet planted on the floor. He was bracing all his weight on one foot. He'd fall for sure.
Taking the soap, she pushed his shoulder, trying to get him to turn around. There was no way she could do this with him looking. When he faced the shower wall, she took a deep breath and raised her hand.
The soap glided across his skin, leaving a trail of bubbles in its wake. His skin was smooth and tanned to a warm golden bronze. Her other hand rose without much thought, her fingers working over his back in slow, measured movements.
He dropped his head, palms flat on the wall in front of him. The water ran over his neck and down his back, washing the soapsuds away.
Holly continued her pursuit, her gaze drinking him in while her hands rounded over every contour. He was warm, his skin soft, and every muscle she felt firm and tight.
She bit her lip, mesmerized, watching her hands manipulate his flesh. He suddenly straightened and turned his body, putting his back to the wall.
He locked eyes with her. There was so much heat in his gaze, it made things low in her belly tighten.
He reached out, grabbing her arm just above the elbow and pulled her forward.
Her pulse quickened when he guided her arm to his stomach, moving her hand in slow, long circles over his flesh. She swallowed the sudden lump in her throat and watched his face as he stared at her.
"Touch me, Holly."
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