Free My So Called Life (Love Not Included Series Book 3) by J.D. Hollyfield Page B

chest. I’m trying to wash away the image of Ian in that damn suit, practically begging me to rip it off him.
    “Stop it, Christina,” I warn my conscience. I can’t go there.
    It’s been years since I’ve laid eyes on Ian, but he still has a way of getting me all worked up. And when I say I’m washing him out of me, I mean working my sponge down my stomach ready to scrub in a circular motion until I get rid of this aching feeling. I picture his beautiful face in place of my hand while he twirls his tongue around my center. I bite my lower lip at the sensation forming in my stomach. I increase the speed as I imagine him nipping and biting at my lips, eating away at me like he’s a starved man. My mouth parts as I increase pressure, knowing I’m close.
    “Oh, Ian.” The soft moan leaves my lips as I’m about to send myself into a glorious orgasm. Just as I press one finger inside myself, a knock on the door throws me off my game, startling me, of course, and causing me to jerk backwards, slipping straight on my ass in the shower.
    I’m going to assume it wasn’t a quiet fall, because as I lie on the shower floor, having the water pelt me in the face, I hear Ian busting into the bathroom.
    “Chrissy, are you okay?” He whips the shower curtain open and I stare up at him, stark naked on the bottom of the bathtub. “Did you fall? Faint again?”
    “I slipped,” I choke out, “but I’m totally fine.” Don’t tell that to my ass cheeks. I think they’re forming a concussion.
    “Do you need help up?” he asks and I shake my head, not moving. He looks in no hurry to close the shower curtain. “Well, how did you slip?”
    It’s like we are having a casual conversation over tea.
    I jerk the shower curtain past his face. I’m pretty covered now or at least in parts where it matters.
    “Out, Ian!” I point toward the door, my other hand gripping the vinyl curtain.
    “Are you sure you don’t need any help?” he asks me. “Standing up, that is?”
    I know he’s caught sight of my flushed face. A face he has caused many times over.
    So busted.
    “I’m fine.” I swat away the hand he’s thrust inside the curtain knowing the smug bastard caught me. “I think I know how to stand up in a bathtub.”
    God, what is it with men? Always thinking we depend on them to survive in life. Psshht.
    I try to stand up, only to realize the bathtub floor is slippery from spilled shampoo. As my foot slides sideways, I grab desperately for the shower curtain with both hands. Ripping the curtain clear off the rings, I fall back down where I came from.
    Oh, but I’m not done.
    At the same time, Ian grabs for me. Then loses his balance and falls forward.
    Into the shower.
    On top of me.
    Why are the sex gods torturing me?
    “Ian!” I screech.
    “Jesus,” he groans as his heavy but—oh, God, help me—strong body covers me, blocking the spray of shower water.
    How did I get in this predicament? I went from seeing a beautiful self-induced orgasm in my future to the real deal, Ian, lying on top of me in the shower.
    “Ian, you’re getting all wet,” I point out. I can feel his hard chest through his soaked clothes.
    “Yeah, I know,” he says, sounding as if he doesn’t care at all about his ruined suit. He’s just looking at me, his face so close to mine. He doesn’t make any effort to move. His line of vision moves from my eyes to my lips.
    He isn’t.
    He wouldn’t.
    Oh, my goodness. He is! He’s going to try and kiss me.
    I know I should stop him. I’m going to stop him. Right after I remember how to use my vocal cords again. Okay, so I think I might just let him kiss me and worry about the consequences later. I close my eyes and wait for his lips to touch mine. This is so wrong, but I can’t do a damn thing to stop myself. I can feel his breath on my face and I know he’s close.
    “What are you guys doing?”
    The sound of a little human brings us both back to earth.
    Kiss forgotten.
    Me completely