There were lots of apologies. Mostly from me. She’d accepted my apologies then leaned in to give me a kiss goodnight, a kiss that was aimed at my cheek. Full of liquor and cocksure, I’d turned my head at the last minute and…

“Oh, fuck…” I groaned. Was it shame that made me lean against the tile and start fucking my fist? That made every detail of the kiss flood my mind now? The soft gasp of surprise when our lips brushed. The way her entire body went rigid as if she wanted to pull away but couldn’t. The taste on her lips, the sour sweetness of the homemade lemonade, and bourbon that I licked from her bottom lip.

Then she made another sound, pained, but hungry. And the look she gave me before she pushed me away? She wanted me. I saw it right there in her blown pupils and her wet lips.

I replayed that moment, again and again, my mind latching on to the what ifs.

What if she hadn’t pushed me away? What if she took my hand and slipped it into the shadow where her robe split? High on the inside of her smooth thigh, just inches from her silken heat.

My breath came in raspy bursts as I imagined myself parting that robe to find her bare underneath it. And, oh god…her pussy. Was it shaved and soft to the touch? Or was it covered in soft hair, the same shade of chestnut brown laced with sun-kissed gold as the hair on her head? Was she wet when I kissed her? Would she let me lick those lips hidden beneath that silk robe, within the dark shadow between her thighs?

A soft thump out in the bedroom made my hand still on my aching cock. It was barely perceptible over the sound of the shower and my ragged breathing, but I opened my eyes and saw that the bathroom door was now open. Not all the way, but cracked just enough that someone could see in.

Did I leave that open?

Nah, I was fairly certain I closed it because I knew I was coming in here to jerk off, and I didn’t want to be disturbed.

But now it was open…

I stepped out of the shower stream, wiped the water from my face, and stared at that gap between the door and the jamb. My first thought was that Scott had caught me with my dick in my hand. That he was recording this so he could embarrass me later when we were out because he was that kind of asshole. I was about to open my mouth to tell him that recording someone nude without their consent was a criminal offense when the person spying on me shifted just enough for me to see that it wasn’t him.

A tumble of dark brown hair. A flash of tawny brown skin.

Darcy.