Page 101 of Snatched
“There’s something broken,” I say, keeping my voice steady. “I wanted to shower and it’s not working. Can you take a look?”
Colt hesitates for a moment before nodding. “Sure, let’s go check it out.”
We make our way to the locker room, the sound of clanking weights and distant chatter fading as we step inside. The room is empty, the air filled with the faint scent of soap and steam.
“So, what’s the problem?” Colt asks, turning to me as the door swings shut behind us.
I bite my lip, a mischievous smile playing on my lips. “Well, I think it’s the showerhead. It’s just not…performing like it should.”
He raises an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Is that so?”
“Mm-hmm,” I murmur, stepping closer to him. “I think it needs a thorough inspection.”
Before he can respond, I reach out and tug at the waistband of his shorts, pulling him toward one of the private shower stalls. He follows, a mix of surprise and desire in his eyes.
“Elena, what are you?—”
“Shh,” I whisper, pushing him gently into the stall and closing the curtain behind us. The small space is filled with steam, the sound of the running water echoing off the tiles.
I don’t waste any time, my hands sliding down to his waist, tugging at his shorts. He watches me, his breath hitching as I slowly pull them down, revealing his already hard length. I can’t help but gasp at the sight of him, the size of him making my heart race.
“God, yes,” I murmur, my fingers wrapping around him, feeling the weight of him in my hand.
He groans, his head falling back against the tiles as I begin to stroke him, my touch firm and sure. “Elena…”
“Shh,” I whisper again, dropping to my knees in front of him. The water cascades over us, dampening our skin, but I barely notice, my focus entirely on him.
I take his tip into my mouth, and he lets out a ragged breath. His fingers tangling in my wet hair as I begin to move, taking him deeper with each stroke.
“Jesus, Elena,” he breathes, his voice thick with desire. “You feel… incredible.”
I hum in response, the vibration making him groan again. I can feel him throbbing in my mouth, the taste of him intoxicating. I pick up the pace, my hands and mouth working in unison, driving him closer to the edge.
Suddenly, we hear a noise outside the stall—the faint sound of footsteps and the creak of a door. Then, an unmistakably male throat clearing.
We both freeze, our breath catching in our throats.
“Damien,” Colt whispers, his voice barely audible over the sound of the running water. “Why is he in the female locker room, though?”
I look up at him, a wicked grin spreading across my face. “I don’t know, but we better be quiet,” I murmur.
I take him back into my mouth, my movements slower.
He bites his lip, his eyes locked onto mine as I continue to pleasure him, the sound of Damien’s footsteps growing closer.The thrill of the moment, the danger of being caught, only heightens the intensity, sending waves of excitement coursing through me.
Colt’s breath hitches, his fingers tightening in my hair as I feel him tense, his body coiling tighter and tighter. I know he’s close, and I redouble my efforts, determined to push him over the edge.
“Elena,” he whispers, his voice a desperate plea. “I’m?—”
And with that, he comes undone, his body trembling as he finds his release, the sound of his ragged breaths filling the stall. I swallow every last drop, savoring the taste of him, the feel of him.
As he steadies his breathing, I push up from the tile floor and rise, drenched, the shower still thundering like a storm we're pretending we didn’t just stand inside of.
He grabs my wrist and reels me gently back toward him—not desperate now, but sure. A man who finally woke up and realized he's been starving. His forehead drops close to mine, rain-warm and intimate, breath brushing my cheek instead of my ear.
“You’re incredible,” he says.
I smirk, and this time I don’t overthink the danger.
