“And what about the rest of those minutes?”

Cam didn’t tell me how he wanted to spend those moments. He showed me… in great detail. Kissing me once before latching his mouth onto my breast. A ball of lava formed in my belly as he turned me sideways, the water spraying down on us. Dazed, my hand fluttered to the strands of wet hair. They sifted through my fingers like silk. He slipped his hand between my thighs as he dragged his mouth to mine. He knew exactly how to touch me, how to make come to the brink of control.

“Hold on,” he ordered.

I wrapped my arms around his neck, letting out a short breath as he lifted me up, pressing my back against the wet tile as he settled between my legs. He brought us together with a slow, torturous thrust. My moans filled the bathroom as his hips pumped. My heart was thundering, a flutter deep in my chest and stomach.

Somehow we ended up out of the shower, my back against the cool floor and Cam over me, his body rocking with mine, my thighs squeezing him as the shower still ran. One hand was on my breast, the other buried deep in my soaked hair. His mouth was hot and demanding, consuming.

“Cam!” I cried out, my back arching as my release powered though me, explosive and crashing. His arms went around me as he lifted me up, seating me in his lap. My knees skid over the now wet floor. Lightning zinged through my veins. His body shook as he held me to him tightly, thrusting once more, grinding my hips against his as he came.

For a while, the only sound was our ragged breathing. We were limp in each other’s arms, my head on his shoulders, my hand resting above where his heart was pounding.

“You—”

“I’m okay,” I cut him off, giggling. “I’m not going to break.”

“I don’t know.”  He brushed my hair back from my face. “You—” A knock on our hotel door cut him off. “Shit. The food’s here.”

I wiggled off his lap and he climbed to his feet, slipping in the puddles we’d left on the floor and almost wiping out. He made it to the door in one piece. “Cam!”

“What?” He looked over his shoulder.

Throwing him a towel, I giggled. “You’re about to answer the door with your junk hanging out.”

“Good call.” He wrapped the towel around his hips as he cast me a wicked grin. “Although the masses would love to see my junk.”

I laughed as I dipped back under the luke warm spray. His junk was rather impressive.

#

Molly’s house was in a decent part of town. Middle income, neat and clean. We stopped in front of a one story rancher and I scanned the numbers on my phone to make sure we had the right house.