I is for Ian - Page 22

Enjoying the water brought with it an unexpected side effect, however. The longer I stood there, the more awake my body felt, and not just because I’d managed to get myself out of bed. I’d been having vivid dreams all night, and one of them was still lingering with me. It was about the construction guy. Ian. I’d actually woken up from it out of breath and overwhelmed. I’d tried not to let myself think about it and made myself go back to sleep.

But now it was building up in my mind again. I hoped I could just focus on showering and the thoughts would wash away, but it wasn’t working. As I washed my hair, the shampoo lather slid down my body and across my nipples. I rinsed it away and washed my face but rubbing my hands over the slippery bar of face soap and closing my eyes only brought up more of the images.

I tried to ignore them and filled my hands with my favorite body wash. Soaping up my skin and feeling the bubbles dance along my body only strengthened the images from the dream that were hovering right at the edges of my thoughts. I couldn’t get the thought of Ian’s chiseled face and body out of my mind.

I didn’t understand it. This man thoroughly annoyed me and made my life much, much harder, but I couldn’t deny how attracted to him I was. It was difficult not to be. He was gorgeous and confident, and there was something unexpectedly sexy about the work he was doing at the hospital. I knew the sexy construction worker was a bit of a cliché, but I’d never really put any stock into it.

Until I saw Ian. Now mundane tasks like picking up building materials on his shoulder or wiping his face while he worked felt strangely suggestive, and I couldn’t stop wondering what he looked like under those jeans and work shirt.

Though I hadn’t gotten a glimpse of the real thing for myself, my mind hadn’t had a problem coming up with an image to populate my dream. My body tingled and my breath deepened just letting that picture of him come back to the front of my thoughts.

In my dream, I’d walked into what I thought was going to be an empty hallway, only to find Ian there shirtless, leaning against a wall as he drank from a bottle of water. The part of my brain that conjured up my dreams must have fully tired of the winter chill because in the dream I could see sweat beading on his temples and feel my own skin burning with heat.

He walked up to me and tipped the bottle so water hit my neck and ran in a cool rivulet down the center of my chest and in between my breasts. Without saying a word, Ian dipped his head and licked away the droplets. His tongue ran over my skin as he gathered my shirt at my waist and suddenly swept it off over my head.

The water pouring down on me from the showerhead turned into the feeling of his tongue on my skin, and my eyes closed, my head dropping back to seek out more of the feeling. In my dream, Ian took me by my hips and pressed me back against the wall, and I followed along, turning to lean back against the tile.

His mouth found mine in a deep kiss, and he released the clasp on my bra in a quick snap. Peeling it away from my body, he drew it down my arms and let it drop the floor at our feet. My hand became his as I mimicked the imagined feeling of him brushing his palm over my breasts so my nipples hardened and a sting of desire rushed to settle between my thighs.

My other hand ran down my stomach. The muscles twitch as the desire builds. Losing myself in my fantasy, I could almost hear Ian’s voice like he was actually there with me.

“Let me touch you,” he whispered against my ear.

His hand unbuttoned my pants and pushed them aside so his fingers could trail along my hip bone and dip between my legs. My fingers did the same in the shower, and I drew in a breath at the instant pleasure. His mouth moved along my neck, his teeth briefly nipping the curve of my shoulder. His fingertips patiently coaxed out the bead of hypersensitive nerves at the apex of my core and swirled over it. The sensation got more intense as a rush of heat rolled through me, and my body opened and readied for his touch.

His tongue traced a line along my collarbone and then up the front of my throat. I gasped out the words he wanted to hear.

Tags: Natasha L. Black Romance
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