Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 62972 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 315(@200wpm)___ 252(@250wpm)___ 210(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62972 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 315(@200wpm)___ 252(@250wpm)___ 210(@300wpm)
“No, goofball!” I huff out a laugh. He really is incorrigible. “Wait here, I think I have something.”
I turn to head to my bedroom and hear him call out after me. “It better not be one of Alex’s shirts.”
I chuckle as I grab the garment I have in mind, a roomy shirt featuring a white cat wearing spectacles. I head back to the kitchen, thrust it into his hands, and push him toward the bathroom. He walks backward, letting me guide him, my hands on his forearms.
He’s in the bathroom and I’m just standing here waiting for him to shut the door, but he doesn’t right away. He’s looking at me as if he wants to say something.
So do I.
I swallow, feeling breathless. “I…I have to ask you something.”
“What?”
My chest catches as our eyes meet. I bite my lip. “Are you…He-Man?”
His chin goes up as his eyes lower to half-mast. “Damn, Buttercup, I’ve been waiting weeks for you to ask me that.”
Maverick—or should I say, He-Man—is showering while I furiously set the table and finish making lemonade.
He’s in my freaking shower…naked.
I check the clock on the wall. It seems like he’s been in there forever, although in reality it’s only been fifteen minutes. Feeling flustered by the images my mind is conjuring up, I march down the hall to knock on the door and let him know everything’s done.
Just as I raise my hand, Han comes up behind me and puts his front paws on the bathroom door, which of course isn’t shut all the way, so it opens. Darn cat.
I don’t mean to spy on Maverick. Really it’s just an accident that I peek through the crack in the door and see the mirror, which shows the glass shower enclosure…and his naked form. I swallow hard at his broad chest, his thick arms as he scrubs his hair, the drops of water as they run down his pecs to that deliciously tempting V, right down to his—
Our eyes meet in the mirror and I take a step back, out of sight.
Shit.
The water turns off.
I clear my throat. “Everything’s ready,” I say, projecting my voice.
The shower door opens and shuts. “Do you think dinner can wait?” he says.
I can’t see his face, and it’s killing me, so I step forward a little so we can talk. Before I realize it, my feet have taken me right into the bathroom, and it’s not an accident. My body knows what it wants.
“Wait for what?” I say.
He’s standing there in front of me, and I blink rapidly, my traitorous eyes tracking a wayward droplet of water as it skirts down his corded neck, past his shoulders, and to his legs.
“Buttercup, I think you know what.”
The air is hot and humid, making my face damp as I stand within a few feet of him. My hands itch to touch him, to caress that utter perfection, that body that’s been honed by years of hard work and training.
“Delaney,” he says, and I hear the command in his tone, the sheer confidence that he knows I want him.
“You’re naked,” I say, averting my gaze and looking up at the ceiling.
“And you’re not—why?”
I take a deep breath.
“Delaney.” His tone is silky. “Look at me.”
I do and my body shudders with built-up need, taking him in. God, I want to be naked. I want to throw myself all over him and satisfy this craving, but…
“I want you, Delaney, and it’s killing me slowly.”
I suck in a sharp breath as his hand moves to caress his hard cock. He’s unapologetic and proud as he pumps from tip to root, his palms working over the velvety-looking skin of his hard, long member.
“He-Man has a big sword,” I say breathlessly.
“Damn straight.” He rolls his fingers over the mushroom-shaped head as he bites his lip, making me bite my lip. His breathing increases as his chest rises, and I’m filled with the need to be the one to make that noise come from him.
Desire swirls in his gaze. “This is all for you…you.”
He releases his grip and I whimper, missing the sight of him pleasuring himself. He takes a step toward me and threads his hands through my hair, tugging at the pins that hold the buns together. With a touch so light it makes me shiver, he trails his fingers down the sides of my neck and onto my shoulders.
“You’re wet,” I say, watching the water drip down his chest.
“Are you?”
“Yes.”
He murmurs his approval softly, and a thousand thoughts fly at me at once, telling me to stop, to not get this close to another athlete, but I’m past caring.
“This is crazy,” I murmur.
“Crazy good,” is his reply.
“It’s probably a mistake,” I add.
“Best fucking mistake ever,” he says before taking my mouth, his full and sensuous lips sliding over mine, parting them until I sink into him and revel in the sensation of him against me.