Razor: A Bad Boy Stepbrother Romance(32)

I took a deep breath, trying to calm my racing pulse. “Mason,” I called out tentatively.

His voice was muffled and was hard to understand but I could just make out his response. “Yeah?”

“Where are your clothes? I thought I told you to leave them outside the bathroom so I could wash them for you.”

“Shit. I forgot. They’re in here with me.”

“Okay. I’ll just get them when you get out.” I turned away to go back in the living room.

“Just step in and get them. They’re on the floor.”

I hesitated. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah. It’s not like you will see anything and I’m almost done. And even if you do, I’m sure you’ll like it.”

I have no doubt.

I placed my fingers on the door, opening it and stepping inside.

Just don’t look, I told myself.

I expected a blast of steam to hit me, but there was nothing. There wasn’t an ounce of steam in the room.

Was Mason taking a cold shower?

And, of course, I had to look.

The shower door was made of glass and it would’ve been steamed up had Mason been taking a hot shower, but since he wasn’t, I could see enough. There he was in all his glory, his body sculpted as if he were a god, with the water cascading down around him.

My breath caught in my throat, and he looked up just as I stepped in. I couldn’t quite tell through the glass, but I swear I could see the corners of his lips curled into a cocky, challenging grin.

I quickly looked away, my heart pounding like a battering ram.

“I didn’t see anything!” I blurted quickly.

I heard him chuckle. “You sure about that? Looked like you got an eye full to me. I’m in the shower but I bet you’re wetter than I am.”

“You’re an *! I’m J-Just grabbing your clothes,” I stuttered. Keeping my head turned, I knelt down on the floor and felt around blindly until I grabbed what felt like his stuff.

“Got ‘em!” I squeaked. Not waiting for a response, I rushed from the room, my cheeks on fire.



Mason





Holy f*ck. I was so close too.

I swear she was torturing me, not letting me get a release. But the look on her face when she fled the bathroom had been pure gold.

The look in her eyes told me everything I needed to know. I bet she was out there right now, soaking wet and praying that I’d come out and show her what Razor could do in the sack. Considering she just ruined my orgasm, I might just do it.



Carly





It was bigger than I thought it’d be. So thick and long, I was practically salivating and down below I could feel the moistness gathering between my thighs once again.

The * was right.

Then I remembered how he looked at me with that cocky grin and I froze in the middle of the hallway as sudden realization washed over me.

The bastard wanted me to see him naked! Was he trying to seduce me?

Or torment me.

I rushed to the kitchen with his clothes, and quickly located some detergent and turned on the faucet. I dumped his hoodie into the sink first and started scrubbing at it fiercely, trying to focus on the task at hand to get him out of my head.

I won’t think about his big fat dick, I repeated over and over inside my head while I scrubbed his sweater.

The problem with this mantra was that I was still thinking about his big fat dick as I was saying the words over and over.

The sound of wood creaked, causing me to look up from my psycho scrubbing. My breath caught in my throat and my heart skipped a beat. Again.

He was standing in the hallway, his hair wet with a white towel wrapped precariously around his waist, his perfectly etched abs and rippling torso on display. My eyes trailed down, and I could see the imprint of his cock pressed against the towel.

“Why are you only wearing a towel?” I demanded. It sounded like an accusation. Like I was f*cking pissed at him for doing it. And I guess I was to a degree, because it made me want to go drop to my knees in front of him.

That cocky grin spread across his face and he nodded at the counter. “Because you stole my pants.”

I scowled. “I didn’t steal your . . .” my voice trailed off as I glanced down. Sure enough, his jeans and boxers were resting on the counter along with his shirt. In my haste to flee the bathroom, I must’ve just grabbed everything. “Shit, I’m sorry. I grabbed them by mistake.”

Mason chuckled. “It’s okay. Can you toss them over?” Mason shifted on his feet and the towel almost slipped from around his chiseled hips.

I wish it would have.

I tried to keep my eyes level with his. “Do you want the boxers too?”

“Can you give them a quick wash with my hoodie and shirt? Until we can risk going to a store, they’re all I’ve got.”

I mockingly widened my eyes. “You mean to tell me the amazing Razor didn’t think of bringing a change of clothes?”

“I didn’t exactly plan it to go this way. I was supposed to turn the video over to Anonymous, and I would have, until I realized how much it could benefit you.”

“Are you going to keep staring, or are you going to toss me my jeans?” He added, not giving me a chance to reply.

Asshole. I grabbed his jeans and slung them across the room at him with more force than I intended.