Moving closer, I swallowed in a tight throat. I stood on my tiptoes to reach the top of his head, and he steadied me by placing hands on my waist. Then he ducked his head for my attention. His hands, where they held, me touched me lightly at first, but as I continued to massage his scalp, his hold on me tightened, fingertips pressing into my flesh. Thrill danced across my skin. I wanted to press my body to his. But I remembered his warning, about not making it to the top deck. Did I want our first time to happen in here?
I pulled away and turned back to my side of the shower to rinse my hair, my eyes closed. But he came up close behind me.
He picked up the bottle of shower gel and poured it into his hand and I twisted to look back at him, ready to feast on the vision of this gorgeous man lathering his abs.
He said, “Stand still. I’ll wash your back.”
I took a deep breath and did as he told me. His warm hands slicked down from my shoulders, across my deltoids and trapezius muscles to the small of my back. Every inch that he touched sprang alive and I trembled. The soap allowed just the right amount of give and the sensation of his strong hands gliding over my skin set my insides aflame with impossible heat. Then he reached around and smoothed soap across my belly, my hips. His hands skirted my pubic region before slipping up to my breasts—and apparently he must have thought my breasts in extra need of washing because his hands lingered there for quite some time. My nipples were erect and sensitive under his touch, each stroke of his hands piercing my core with lancets of desire.
I was panting, leaning against him. His erection pressed into the small of my back, hot and hard. His head came down to take my ear in his mouth. Shower spray pelted us. “Emilia, if I wasn’t a gentleman, I’d pin you to that wall right now and fuck you.”
My breath hitched. “Who said you had to be a gentleman?” His mouth was on my neck now but I squirmed out of his arms, pouring some gel in my hands. “That mouth of yours proves that you are a dirty, dirty man…” I said suggestively. He laughed and turned. I started on his shoulders and back and his grew posture rigid. My hands glided over his perfectly defined muscles. My hands sank to his waist, then down to his hard butt.
I turned and filled up on gel again and moved to his front. His body felt exquisite under my hands. A quiet moan escape his mouth as he closed his eyes, savoring my touch. I bent my head to kiss him but stopped myself. Was I ready to start things here, despite what he’d just told me? I stepped away so he could rinse himself off.
I exited the shower, my body still singing with his caresses. I shivered in anticipation of what would happen later tonight, perhaps even on the top deck, under the stars. We toweled off and dressed in casual clothes to go up to the top.
All of OC hugged a south-facing coast that was the curve of Southern California as it twisted its way toward Mexico. At this distance from the coast, the plentiful lights of OC and LA were but a glow along the horizon.
The moon was a tiny sliver of a waxing crescent and so, being just about to set, provided little competition with the stars. The lights from the coastline, however, did prevent maximum viewing. Still it was far better than trying to stargaze on land. The light pollution over the Los Angeles metropolitan area was considerable and on the best of nights, it was difficult to discern more than a dozen or so stars on any given night. It wasn’t like the skies over Anza, which were so dark and clear you could see satellites gliding through the quiet night skies. But out here, you could see almost as much.
Adam had stopped by his office to check his e-mail and I had wandered up to the deck, alone, trying not to be annoyed. It was a wonder, really, that he had ignored it for as long as he did. I couldn’t expect a miracle. So I waited for him for almost an hour. He came up carrying two big blankets and—of course—his cell phone tucked into his pocket.
After finding the most recognizable constellations, we lay back on a wide cushioned bench beside each other, gazing up at the black dome above us.
“I still can’t believe you were up there.”
“Yep. For ten days. And if I get my way, I’ll go up again.”
“How did you turn off work for that long?”
He shrugged. “I didn’t. I worked by satellite for a few hours every day. But I also had to participate in science experiments, too. I enjoyed that a lot.”
From here the blackened sea stretched out around us, calm, rocking gently.
I sighed. “It must be so satisfying, to see your wildest dreams come true.”
He was silent for a long moment. “What are your dreams, Emilia?”
I shrugged. “You know, I don’t have an answer for that besides ‘become the best badass doctor ever.’” I frowned, glad for the darkness that cloaked my face. He couldn’t see the valley of worry that had etched itself into my forehead. Though I’d finished my premed program, I was still far from that dream. It was a sobering thing, to see the thing I wanted so much in the world just beyond my reach. The one barrier was something I feared more than anything—failure, yet again. It had paralyzed me, prevented me from retaking the test over and over again until I got it right. No, I wouldn’t take it again until I’d paid the price with blood, sweat and tears, studying hours and hours a day until I had the material ingrained as a part of the fabric of my brain.