Submersed (16 page)

             
“Okay, I
’
ll come over.”

             
“Do you have a couple days free?” I asked, trying not to sound overly eager.

             
“Sure, no problem.”

             
“Can you bring a change of clothes and stuff? I don’t want you having to do the Walk of Shame.”

             
“Are you asking me to spend the night,
Livi
?”

             
I could tell he was smiling, I could hear it in his voice. “You know you’re going to anyway.”

             
“I guess that’s a fair assessment,” he said in a pompous tone.

             
“Don’t wiggle your eyebrows at me!” I scolded.

             
“I’m not wiggling anything. How about tonight? I can be there at eight.”

             
“Okay.
And Dillon?”

             
“Yeah,
Livi
?”

             
“Thank you.” Thank you for being able to come over on such short notice. Thank you for making me
laugh
on the phone. And thank you, most of all for being there for me to call in the first place.

             
In bed the next morning, I lifted my head, looked over at the clock and groaned. Somehow, most of the morning had gotten away from us. Dillon’s arm was draped protectively over my waist and I was snuggled in against his chest.

             
I was getting used to waking up to find him in my bed. Although we hadn’t done anything more than kiss, I still found myself thinking I’d gone too far. I was on a dangerous path that inevitably would lead me straight back to heartache and humiliation.

             
But his warm body felt so nice next to mine.

             
If my warped conscious already thought I’d crossed the line, then why not take things a little further?

             
“Aren’t you going to the gym this morning?” I asked groggily.

             
“Why? Am I getting flabby?” Dillon patted his six-pack and pretended to inspect his non-existent flab.

             
I snorted, throwing my leg over his.
“Hardly.
I just thought you’d have already have gone this morning.”

             
“I wasn’t planning on it. Do you want to get rid of me already?”

             
I sat up on my knees, my baggy nightshirt pooling around me, and tucked my hair behind my ears.
“No, never.
I just know it’s something you enjoy. So, why don’t you go down and work off some of that sexual frustration and I’ll order up some breakfast for when you get back.”

             
He sat up and yawned, spreading his arms out wide. “All right, drill sergeant.”

             
Before I could climb out of bed, he snagged me into a warm bear hug. “I’ll see you in an hour. Don’t go anywhere,” he murmured into my neck.

             
I puffed out a breath of air. “That’s a laugh.”

             
He patted me on the butt and strode into the bathroom to change.

             
“Don’t let some gym
hottie
snag you up,” I called to him.

             
He stuck his head out the door. “Yes dear. I’ll come straight back to you.”

             
Several minutes later, when I heard the front door click securely behind him, I hurried in to the bathroom.

             
That morning, I broke the record for the world’s fastest shower. Quickly, I lathered up with soap, careful not to linger on the places begging to be touched. I couldn’t risk it, knowing Dillon was downstairs and coming back any minute. I scrubbed like a madwoman, using firm, robotic pressure. When I stepped out
of the shower
, I was out of breath.

             
I had to be dressed and ready before he came back to avoid any shower awkwardness. As much as I wanted to lather those bulging muscles with soap, I wasn’t ready yet.

             
Not for that, anyway. But I was knocking around an idea of something else.

             
An hour later, Dillon came back to me as promised. I loved seeing him after he worked out.
All sweaty and handsome.
Strong and energized.

             
“When am I going to get you in the shower?” he asked after pulling me into a sweaty hug.

             
My thighs twitched and I crossed my legs at the ankle.
“Maybe someday.”

             
“What about today?”

             
I followed him into the bathroom. “Well, I kind of had something a little different in mind.”

             
“Oh, yeah.”
He turned around to face me, his face lighting up. “Like what?”

             
“Well, I was thinking that…”
Criminy
, the words were sticking in my throat like peanut butter. “I was thinking I could watch you take a shower. I mean…through the glass.
If that’s okay.
Oh, God. That’s weird isn’t it?” I wheeled around to escape and hide my face.

             
Dillon grasped my wrist before I could flee and pulled me to him. He smelled of sweat and that masculine scent that was uniquely his.

             
He tilted my chin up to meet his eyes. “It’s not weird.”

             
“Are you sure?”

             
“Of course.
Besides, you don’t ask for much, so when you do, I’m inclined to accommodate you.”

             
“I won’t look,” I promised.

             
“You can look if you want to.
That’s the whole point.
”

             
It sounded like he wanted me to.

             
“No. I’ll just be in here while you’re in there,” I stammered.

             
Dillon fought back a smile and squeezed my hand. “Okay,
Livi
.
Whatever you want.”

             
He started to take off his shirt and I forced myself to watch. Not that I didn’t want to, but because I was painfully embarrassed. It wasn’t like I hadn’t seen him without a
shirt,
he slept without one all the time. It was watching him in the act of taking it off that felt elicit.

             
As he pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it to the floor, his eyes never left mine.

             
When he pulled his shorts down, I watched how his thigh muscles moved when he stepped out of them. His briefs were next and my heart hammered. I closed my eyes when he reached for the elastic band.

             
“It’s okay,” he whispered.

             
I motioned for him to continue and I turned around. “Keep going,” I said, eyes still shut, back still turned.

             
“All right,” he mumbled.

             
I heard him open the shower door, turn on the faucet and adjust the temperature.

             
Only when I finally heard the door slide closed, did I slowly turn
around.
I was relieved to find he hadn’t tricked me and was actually inside the shower and not standing in front of it.

             
The outline of Dillon’s body was tan against the white tile, but blurred slightly by the opaque glass doors.

             
Not able to trust my legs, I lowered myself down and sat on the edge of the bathtub.

             
While I watched his silhouette lather soap over his torso, my fingers gripped into the ledge, the tile cold on my hands. First, he worked the soap up and down his left arm and then the same with his right. Through the shower door, I could see the layer of lather on his skin. The water quickly chased the lather away as he worked the soap down his chest and belly and lower.

             
As he skimmed the soap over his skin, I imagined it sliding over my body instead.
Down my neck and shoulders, breasts, belly and between my legs.
The heat there would warm the suds and Dillon would look at me with that dark hunger in his eyes. He’d run the soap between my legs and back up between my cheeks and up my spine.

             
God, I was a coward for demanding the shower door be between us. Unfortunately, it was how it had to be. If I were to see Dillon naked straight away, I knew a heart attack was inevitable. This was the only way I knew to work up to it.

             
Luckily, Dillon didn’t seem to mind. He was probably getting a kick out of being on “display” in my shower. I wondered if he was deliberately spending so much time lathering up his thighs.

             
Ah, forget the soap. I wanted to lick him from head to toe until he had no choice but to cry out my name.

             
I swallowed. In a room full of water, my throat was as dry as the Clark County desert.

             
Dillon flipped open the shampoo bottle and I jumped at the sound. I was surprised to discover I was breathing hard like I’d taken the stairs all the way down to the lobby. My fingernails dug into the tub, my knuckles white.

             
I tried to think of something to say. There was no way I could endure this in silence.

             
“How was…” My voice cracked and I cleared my throat and started again. “How was your workout?”

             
“It was great,” he answered over the din of the water. He squirted shampoo on his palm and worked it into his hair.

             
“That’s good,” I replied, lamely.

             
“You should join me sometime.”

             
I sputtered a laugh. “The gym’s not really my thing.”

             
He didn’t say anything else, but swiveled around, allowing the water to wash away every last bubble on his body.

             
I imagined the shampoo suds running down his muscular back. Bubbles chasing each other down his stomach and thighs…

             
I clenched my own thighs together and ground my pussy into the hard tile of the tub. I could feel my wet folds rubbing against my panties and jeans. The friction became too much and I stood up.

             
When Dillon turned the water off, I went to the sink and made busy work of washing my hands. That way I wouldn’t have to face his wet, naked body. Jeez, who
se
idea was this anyway?

             
As I avoided looking into the mirror, I heard Dillon climb out of the shower and hopefully reach for a towel.

             
“Maybe next time you’ll wash my back for me.”

             
I could hear his voice getting closer as he came up from behind me. He slid his arms around my waist and nuzzled my neck. I focused on steadying my breathing and dried my hands on a towel. He brushed my hair to the side, revealing my bare neck. Then he pressed a kiss to the sensitive skin there, sending shivers down my spine where they met with the tingling between my legs. I sucked in a breath as he continued to press open-mouthed kisses along the column of my neck. I could feel his erection through the towel draped around his waist. Its length pressed hard into my bottom. His hands drifted up and just brushed the sides of my breasts.

             
There was a knock on the front door and I exhaled.

             
“Breakfast is here,” I announced with a shaky breath. I turned, shoved the hand towel to his chest and went to answer the door.

             
After I arranged breakfast on the table and poured coffee, Dillon walked out of the bathroom barefoot, dressed in jeans and a black tee shirt. It amazed me how he could look sexy no matter what he was wearing. A tuxedo, jeans, a towel… No, I couldn’t think about his naked body. Now wasn
’
t the time. I had to focus on chewing and swallowing my toast without choking.

             
After a quick breakfast, and a few minutes to cool down my libido, it was time to get to work.

             
It was time to show Dillon my studio.

             
When I opened the door to the studio, my precious comfort zone, I took hold of Dillon’s hand and took comfort in the reassuring squeeze that came right away. He smiled at me and I smiled back at him, desperately hoping everything would be okay.