Page 57 of The Best Man Problem
“Everything work out okay?”
She stared, trying to make out his form behind the glass of the large shower, but everything was distorted and hazy.
“Yes, everything is set for tomorrow, and there’s no extra charge for acts of extreme weather.”
His chuckle rose over the pounding sound of the water. “Great, then you can come in here and let me wash…your back.”
A giddy thrill shot through her at the notion of all Lincoln could wash for her. But first, Mother Nature called.
“Give me one second.”
She headed into the tiny toilet room and took care of business. The condom packet still in hand, she then made her way to the large shower, leaving her glasses on the sink countertop. Slowly, she pulled open the glass door and stepped inside. Lincoln’s blurry face came into focus as he wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her into him.
“Hi,” he said, kissing her lips softly.
“Hi,” she returned the greeting and the kiss.
“Is that a condom packet in your hand or are you just happy to see me?”
She snorted, water spraying her in the face when Lincoln tilted his head in question.
“It’s a condom,” she confirmed. “And you have the absolute worst sex humor.”
“I didn’t know it was a competition.” He grinned, turning them so the showerhead hit her back.
Warm, pounding water massaged her shoulders as Lincoln’s hands caressed her lower back.
“You know,” he said between rubs. “Shower sex isn’t as hot as the movies make it out to be.”
“I know.” She moaned as his hands dipped lower, grasping the globes of her ass and kneading in a sensual manner. “But I figured we could give it a shot. See if we can make some Hollywood magic.”
He chuckled, lips brushing against hers as one finger dipped in between her thighs to stroke her right where she ached for him.
“For you, sweetheart, I’m willing to give anything a shot.”
She tried not to read too much into that statement. This was just sex talk. They were in the throes of passion. Promises made here weren’t to be taken seriously. That’s how her mom got her heart broken so often—she believed what men said when they were naked. You could never believe what a man said when he was naked…or what a woman said when she was naked, either. The loss of clothes directly correlated to the loss of pragmatic brain cells.
All thoughts left her mind the moment Lincoln plunged two fingers inside her. Her body tightened with need.
“Lincoln,” she gasped, warm water from the showerhead trickling into her mouth as her head tilted up.
“I’ve got you, sweetheart. Tell me what you want.”
“You.” She reached out, grasping the hard length of his erection pressing against her belly and stroking. “I want you. Inside me. Now.”
He laughed softly. “One of us is going to have to stop playing so we can put the condom on.”
But she didn’t want to stop playing, and she didn’t want him to stop, either. Why weren’t humans made with three arms? Just think of all the life problems that could be solved by an extra appendage.
“Lilly,” he pressed as she quickened her strokes. “I don’t want to stop touching you.”
Good. She didn’t want him to stop, and she also didn’t want to stop. On the other hand, she wanted more of him inside her. A, ahem, bigger part of him inside her.
“Hold out the condom,” he demanded.
Their occupied hands still working magic on each other, Lilly held up the foil packet. Lincoln maneuvered them again so the water hit his back, blocking the stream from their good bits. He grasped the corner of the foil and ripped, gripping the latex protection between his fingers and pulling it from the wrapper.
That was a new one for her. She’d never shared opening a condom with a partner before. It felt intimate in a way far deeper than it should be. Not wanting to deal with that emotion right now, she dropped the wrapper and gently plucked the condom from his fingers and rolled it on his length, replacing her other hand but continuing to stroke him as she rolled the latex down his cock.
