Breaking The Rules

Noah’s lips slowly form into that wicked grin I’m way too familiar with. Oh, crap. Just crap. “I’m cold, Echo, and so are you. A hot shower sounds nice, doesn’t it?”

I nod, too frightened I’ll squeak instead of speak. Noah and I have messed around, a lot. We’ve kissed and touched and shed clothes in moments where things became as hot as an inferno, but there’s always been a discreet air surrounding us.

Certain things stayed on when other things came off. Hands would wander below instead of a complete unveiling. And the times that we pushed beyond our normal boundaries and our blood rushed too hot for too long...there would be a blanket and one night, his black leather jacket.

After that delicious night, I will never smell leather again without blushing.

But now, this, standing in the middle of a hotel bathroom, Noah is suggesting that we strip ourselves of everything and huddle together behind a shower curtain and...well...bathe. That’s just...intimate.

“I...”

And Noah unzips his jeans. I spin on my heel, and my reflection in the mirror confirms the shock exploding in my body. My green eyes are too bright against my pale skin, and my drenched hair molds to my head and cheeks. Goose pimples outline my skin, and my body quakes.

Because they’re wet, Noah’s jeans are a bit stubborn sliding down, but he’s successful, and in the mirror I’m drawn to his naked body. I love the raw power of his shoulder blades and the curve of his back that trails lower to his...my mouth dries out...oh, crap...his butt is...how do I describe something so exquisite?

Everything about Noah is sexy, and as he bends to pull the jeans off his foot—

“If you get in the shower with me, Echo, you’d get a better look and you’d warm up.”

“I should get...my pj’s...so that they’re in here...when we...finish.” Or something.

“Finish?” he repeats with a tease. “I’m all about finishing.”

Internally screaming, I half turn and throw myself into what I believe is the doorway and instead ram into the corner of the wall. “Ow!”

My hands fly up to my bang line to cover the now possibly dented and crushed area of my skull. I am the most impaired person on the face of the planet.

“Echo?” Noah’s concern leaks into his voice, but I wave him off—without peeking.