“I will definitely use you later,” I say aloud, walking past the tub to the shower.
The shower’s the kind with no door, just a pane of glass you walk around. So I strip, tossing my clothes on the floor before stepping inside to turn on the water.
Alec wasn’t kidding about this shower being tricky. A hundred buttons must be on the wall, right below the showerhead…the detachable one. I can’t help but smile as I reach for it, bending forward to eye all the options.
Okay, how do I turn you on?
I hit one decorated with three wiggly lines, immediately unleashing multiple streams from above that cascade like a waterfall.
Oh wow. Looks like owning a Forbes-listed holding company gets you tech money and fancy showers. I leave the showerhead where it is, relaxing my head back, letting the warmth drift over my body. My hands glide over my head, slicking my hair back before dragging down over my shoulders to my chest. Sheesh, even the temperature is perfect.
What an end to a wild night. My muscles relax even more as I stand there. I needed this shower.
I’ll just wash those men right out of my hair…so to speak. I close my eyes, lowering my chin, letting the water run over my face. Tomorrow I’m Sober Sally. No harmless “one glass” of wine that turns into a bottle—well, almost bottle—that turns me into a predator.
Nope. I’m going to turn over a new leaf. I won’t even know what a penis is, let alone be a person who thinks about the ones in the other room.
Tomorrow the new and improved Samantha will have never pictured how beautiful those four cocks are when they’re hard. Oh fuck. My breathing slows as the thought suddenly becomes very specific.
All I can see, eyes closed under the water, is Jace standing in the living room. All his tattoos are on display while he’s rubbing his hand over his chest. And his dick bobs, rock-hard, almost touching his belly button. Obviously, in every fantasy, dicks are twelve inches.
“Get on your knees. I’m gonna feed you my cock, and you’re gonna suck it like a—”
My head draws back from the water, eyes blinking rapidly as I lock onto the treasure I’d almost forgotten about.
Hello, lover.
I grab the magical detachable showerhead, flicking the little lever on top, but nothing happens.
“Dammit,” I whisper.
My body shivers because the vision of Jace is still heavy in my thoughts. What’s a girl got to do for some fantasy action?
I bend forward again, trying to suss out what button I should hit. This is why listening is important. But no, I was too busy thinking about Alec’s ass. Now I’ll never get off. I’m a fucking dummy.
My eyes jump from symbol to symbol, my nose scrunching up.
“Which one are you?”
I take a shot by pressing a button, but that only switches from multiple waterfalls to one, so I try another. Nope, that’s steam. The glass begins fogging up, making me squint to see.
“Maybe this one…shit.”
The steam stops, but cold-ass water comes pouring down from above. I shriek, jumping back before immediately tapping another, barely looking at what I hit.
Christmas music begins to blare.
You’ve got to be kidding me.
Now I’m stabbing the button, trying to make it stop. But “Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree” gets louder and louder.
“What the fuck. Turn off!” I yell, trying not to freeze to death while smacking the whole damn display.
I’m mid-panic when a deep bass reverberates over the music.
“Samantha.”
Samantha? That’s me. Oh my god, that’s Cole.
Two things happen next: One, I scream, trying to cover my body just as Cole’s eyes connect with mine. And two, he turns around just as I smack into that single pane of glass.
I know it made a sound. Like a bell getting rung. Because that’s precisely what happened.
“Oww,” I grunt, steadying my hand against the wall display, miraculously turning off the music and the water.
I don’t know when he turned around, but I do know that Cole is rushing toward me as I stand naked, holding my nose.
He jerks me forward, tugging my hand from my face.
“Hold this. Let me see.”
“Hold what? Why are you here? I’m naked,” I say in one big run-on sentence. I’m gripping something soft, so I look down. “I have a towel.”
“You do. Now stop moving and talking. I need to see if you’re bleeding.”
I do, in fact, stop talking as I stand there being evaluated because my face hurts, I’m still drunk, and Cole is standing in front of me while I’m only wearing a towel. The last thought makes me squirm, just enough for him to growl his displeasure.
Jesus, this is a new low for my libido. In the face of injury, she literally pushes through like a crack whore to a pipe. Yeah, she definitely wants him to lay some pipe.
For fuck’s sake. Why didn’t I knock myself out?
Cole’s eyes meet mine.
“You’re good. No blood. Now, you want to share why you were having a Christmas concert for the whole mountain?”
I stare back with half a smile on my face. Cole makes me feel like a child, but not in a gross way. In that very dominant—you might get your grown-ass fucked—kind of way. And although everything about this is inappropriate, his proximity to my naked body has wholly short-circuited the rational thinking part of my brain.
His eyes narrow as I say, “Because I didn’t listen to the directions.”
I didn’t mean it to sound flirtatious, but damn if it doesn’t sound like permission to make me drop to my knees. Cole’s silent. His dark brown bedroom eyes search mine like he’s muddling around a thought. But before he says anything, I touch my nose and grin, wincing.
“Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone you were nice to me. Wouldn’t want you off the naughty list.”
Cole steps into the shower, rolling up his shirt sleeves, forcing me to take a few steps back before he reaches around me. He’s so close that the delicious smell of his cologne makes me think I might float after it when he leaves.
“I can be nice, Samantha. You just have to earn it.” My lips part as I suck in a soft gasp. “Waterfalls or showerhead, sweetheart?”
Oh, that look. Cole knows exactly what he’s asking. And I’m going to follow him right to where he’s leading.
“Showerhead,” I say unabashedly because the fucking hussy didn’t get knocked out of me.
But before I melt into him, he smacks a button. The showerhead springs to life, water shooting out all over the back of my towel, making me jump as he chuckles.
Asshole.
He doesn’t say anything as he steps back, but I still stand like a deer in headlights, eyes wide, as he turns around and walks out of the door, shutting it behind him.
Holy shit. What was that? And can I have some more?
“Oh crap,” I whisper, remembering my towel is getting wet before I toss it outside the shower.
My back hits the cold tile as I stare at the bathroom door. Fuck you, Cole Hudson. The smile on my face won’t stop growing. He’s just so hot. Between his presence and that asshole attitude, it’s intoxicating.
Jesus, I have problems. Because I’m revved up all over again.
Casually, I turn around, acting like I’m just going to take a shower…acting for whom? I don’t fucking know because I’m alone. But I did just smash my face, so maybe that’s why I’ve lost it. Either way, I take the nozzle, glancing at the door again, before running the water down my body straight to where I want it.