Hot water pounded against her body, beading on her skin. Steam curled upwards, caressing her form, sliding over damp flesh as soapy fingers left a slick coating on her bare skin. She needed this. After the day she had been through, the tension, all the stress, she needed this moment of sheer bliss under the shower. One thing she’d insisted on as a teenager had been the fitting of a decent shower in the cabin, and it had been the only argument where the cabin had been concerned that she’d won without a month or more of fights first.
No sign of her father, just a few scattered notes, phone calls she’d missed. A man who’d not left a name. Telesales, no doubt. They’d call back later if it was important. Who else could it have been?
Simone closed her eyes, letting the hot water pound against her face, small droplets pulling on taut nipples, washing off the soft suds as she gave herself to the hedonistic bliss of the moment.
Did he enjoy showers in the same way?
The thought caught her off guard, muscles tensing across her shoulders, her teeth grazing her bottom lip. What was she doing thinking about Victor?
Why not? He wasn’t here; he’d never know, and her father was out with some old friends trying to empty one of the local lakes of fish. Or he was settled down with a few of his buddies, making plans for when deer season started?
Her fingers slid down over her breasts, cupping them, pinching softly at the peaks of her pink-tinged nipples, forcing a low moan into life. Her thighs pressed tightly together, hips rolling as she replayed his features in her mind. He’d kiss her ever so gently at first, then claim her lips, growling, fingers tight in her hair. Gods, she could feel it, the soft tip of his tongue prying into her mouth, seeking, stroking, his hands cupping her ass, pulling her tight against his muscled form.
So many women had dreamed of him, and she’d just be one of the hundreds that glanced his way. But she would never let him know. A secret to keep her warm through the nights ahead.
One hand eased down over her stomach, seeking between her thighs, cupping the soft mound of her sex with a gentle touch. Would he be tender? Or just take what he wanted. No, he’d show a mix of both. The strength wrapped in velvet desire.
With a low groan, her finger sought out her tight nub, brushing over the slick flesh, hips pressing taut against that wicked touch. Slow, tender, she tapped the tight little bud, soft gasps escaping parted lips, her hips rolling toward each light caress as it forced her into the realms of pleasure.
She leaned against the edge of the bath, one foot pressing onto the rim, thighs spread, her free hand grasping the railing as she found a way to balance under the steaming pleasure of the soft drumming beads of water. She groaned, sliding one finger into her clenching core, thumb replacing her finger against her slick clit. So good, wicked, wanton, delicious, a dozen words and more slipped through her mind, teasing her senses as she thrust her finger into her core, pressing it against the tight walls of her eager sex.
His lips, his touch, soft nibbling kisses, teeth grazing over her throat. Gods. She could almost smell him. Taste him.
More. Gods, she needed so much more.
Her hips rocked, and she groaned as her fingers played over her sensitive skin.
Water dripped from her nipples, tugging at them, pulling the way his fingers would. Soft patterns formed on her skin, dripping down, tender touches in a hundred places. So much pleasure, delight; she could see him, feel him pressed against her slick body, cupping her breasts, his cock pressing against her core, thrusting in, lifting her in the shower.
Just a few touches extra. Gods. Did he know how he fueled the dreams of the local women? Not something she would tell him; it would have only added to the natural arrogance that oozed from his being.
Her thighs tightened, a deeper rock pushing through her hips, teeth catching on her bottom lip as she growled, head leaning against the water-slick tiles, toes curling about the edge of the bath. Pressure built, controlled her thighs, her sex and her stomach. Ripples of pleasure, pain, and desire all melted into one, shuddering through her body in a low moan of release.
She shuddered, leaning against the shower walls for a moment, sweat washed from her body by the soothing warm water.
A sharp knock on the door dragged her out of the remnants of her release.
“Who’s there?” Her toes found the faucet, turning the water off as she called out, snatching a towel from the railing.
Heat claimed her face, flushing over her body in an instant. “Hold on a few. I’ll be right there.” Had he heard her?
She hoped not; the water should have masked what had been going on, or he might have assumed that she was just enjoying her time in the shower.
At least it wouldn’t have been a lie, not really.
Still, to have to face him moments after he’d been the source of her fantasy was a situation right out of a bad dream. Or good dream if he …
No, that thought needed to be stopped right there. Her jaw clenched, and she scrubbed the water from her body before she pulled on a robe, wrapped a towel about her hair, and headed for the front door. But try as she might, she couldn’t quite push away the images of Victor, naked in the shower with her.