California Sunshine - Page 17

“I’m going to head back,” I tell Nova. “I need to get a shower and some sleep.”

Extracting myself from between Nova and Grinder, I climb out of the hot tub, dry off, and wrap my towel around my waist. Giving the boys a wave goodnight, I hurry back to my room, trying not to think about how all three watched me go.

Back in my room, I drop the key on the dresser and head straight for the shower. As the water heats, I let the wet towel drop to the floor. The bikini soon follows. I wonder again why the hell I let Rachel talk me into bringing the damn thing. Then again, the expressions on the guys’ faces . . .

I slip into the shower, letting the hot water pour over me, hoping that it might wash this tingle in my skin away. I grab the small shampoo bottle and wash my hair. As I run my hands through my mid-shoulder length hair, I wonder if Nova knows how to wash a woman’s hair? How would his hands feel stroking my strands? Would he find it as plain and boring as I do, or so silky he can’t help running his hands through it? I turn to rinse and grab the body wash. I need to get my mind off my hair.

Grabbing a small washcloth, I apply a generous dollop of soap, rubbing the liquid in while I try to focus on safe things. Like birds . . . or squirrels . . . or wildflowers . . . California poppies . . . trees . . . pine trees . . . the pine tree in Nova’s shorts.

Fuck.

Every pass of the washcloth reignites those tingles, sending them across the rest of my body as I can’t help imagining Nova’s hands on me. I swipe across my breast, sending a jolt of pleasure from my peaked nipple down to my aching core. A moan escapes me as I lean back against the shower wall and give into my body’s demands.

Washing my other breast goes much slower. I pinch my nipple through the cloth, trying not to imagine what it would be like to have Nova’s fingers on my breast. Or his lips, kissing across my collarbone before nipping at my pink tips. He’d take his time, making me orgasm from that alone, because I’m certain Nova would know how to treat my breasts right. Not like dickface, who thought foreplay was holding up a condom and asking if I wanted to fuck. No, Nova would be very thorough in providing for my needs.

My pussy clenches, demanding attention, and my free hand wanders down to oblige. It’s been a while since it’s had this much attention. Or any, for that matter. Over the last few months, I’ve had too much on my mind and not enough desire. Now that I’m giving in to my body’s demands, I wonder what else I might be ready for, because five months is a long time to be around these guys . . . er, guy. Nova. Nova and his magic fingers . . . trailing down my body . . .

I imagine his fingers drifting to the right to nudge my leg out before bringing them back up. He’d skirt around my core and down the other leg to do the same, leaving me open and exposed to whatever he wants to do to me.

Would he start with his fingers? Touching me, exploring me, spreading me for a better look before slowly, carefully applying his tongue to the task? That’s what my fingers do. As I caress myself, waves of pleasure erupt from my neglected clit as my torrid imagination has me wondering how soft Nova would touch me, or how hard he might lick me, all while cupping my bare ass in his soft hands. My breasts would be neglected, but one of the other two can take care of them.

An image of all three of the guys, shirtless and steamy in the hot tub, flashes into my mind, swirling with the waves of pleasure. I can still picture their faces as I dropped the towel and took off my T-shirt. Nova and his dopey smile. That smile is what earned him a spot in tonight’s fantasy. Okay, that and I genuinely like him. Bats looking intrigued, like maybe he had sensed what was hiding under my clothes and tonight confirmed it for him. Grinder like he was seeing the woman under the dust for once, and liking what he found. Which was weird, given his cold behavior. Maybe I was missing something. It’s going to take more than a sunset and a bikini to change his mind about me, right?

My sneaky fingers take advantage of my distraction to slide up into me while visions of the guys are still floating around in my head. I’m already worked up enough, it only takes a few solid strokes against my G-spot until I’m crashing into an orgasm. Hips bucking. Shoulders slamming against the shower wall. Nerves lighting up like the Fourth of July. My eyes roll back and I let out a loud moan as I ride the waves of pleasure to their all too quick climax.

I stand there panting, water cascading over me as my body relaxes, coming to the inevitable conclusion that we’re done for the night. After a minute of heavy breathing, I straighten up to finish my shower without allowing Nova to creep back into my mind to offer to help.

Or Bats.

Or even Grinder. Not that I expect him to be the type.

And there they are.

All three of them.

Back in my head.

What. The. Fuck?

Tags: Chris Mor Thriller
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