Worth Any Cost
Satisfied with my results, I settled on the bed, all snug and dry in my robe. Pressing a stack of clean washcloths to my mouth to muffle the laughter, I heard the water turn off. After a few seconds’ hesitation, he called from inside the bathroom.
“Hey. Where are all the towels?”
I didn’t answer, just laughed some more and smothered my giggles.
The slap of his wet feet on the bare floor sounded as he crossed the bathroom toward the door. He poked his dripping head out of the doorway. “What did you do?” His dark eyebrow arched, hair soaked and plastered to his forehead. A puddle quickly formed around his feet.
I held up one of the tiny washcloths. “You want this, don’t you? The hate is swelling in you now.”
His mouth quirked. “Something’s swelling, but it isn’t hate.” He pushed the hair away from his forehead and cleared the water that had dripped into his eyes. “Somehow I thought getting away with that was too easy.”
I smirked. “You should know me better by now. As for drying off…you could always use your dirty underpants.”
“Underpants? What am I, five?” He clenched his jaw and then grinned. “Don’t underestimate the power of the dark side, young Jedi.”
I rolled my eyes. “So you’re going to try to one-up me? So predictable. I’m shaking in my boots.”
His dark eyes gleamed as he came closer. Rivulets of water had collected on his tasty abs. It was fascinating to behold.
“And you should know me better, too.” He grinned evilly. “I don’t one-up. I one-hundred-up.” Then he shook his head inches from my face. Droplets of water sprayed everywhere. I let out a screech and pulled back. “You are looking too dry over there, little girl. Let me help you with that.”
And he promptly pinned me, dripping wet, to the bed and started rubbing his drenched face in mine. “You’re gonna soak the bed!” I screeched.
“Collateral damage,” he replied. He reached down and pulled the belt on my robe, opening it. Then he shifted, sandwiching me between his wet body and the bed.
I squirmed and wiggled, and he only seemed to like it more. He shook his head again. My hand smacked his hard chest. “You’re such a boy.”
He grinned. “I’m all boy,” he said, pressing his erection against me.
“I won’t take this lying down,” I muttered.
“You don’t have to take it lying down.” He laughed. “There’s always up against the door or the shower wall. Or you can take it bent over the back of the couch or a dozen other different ways. Whatever way you take it…you are taking it.”