Breaking the Rules (Pushing the Limits #1.5)(27)

“Have you ever seen a guy’s—”

Oh. My. God. “Yes.”

“You have?”

Crap and I wish I would melt into a puddle on the floor. “No.”

Noah’s hands ease down my arms, then he folds me into him. His front heating my back. He dips his head to my ear and whispers. “Lower your hands.”

“Nuh-uh.” My mind chants, can’t make me, followed by, la, la, la.

“Baby, I’ve got no problem turning you around, propping you up on the sink and kissing you until you look at me.”

And he wins. I drop my hands and catch his eyes in the mirror.

“It’s okay,” he says.

“I’m...” What am I? Damaged? Idiotic? Twelve and playing spin the bottle? “I wish I wasn’t like this.”

“I like how you are just fine.” He kisses the side of my neck, and my knees literally go weak with the warmth of his lips against my cold skin. “You take a shower. I’ll lay my clothes out to dry then take one after.”

He releases me, and I snag his hand. “No. Wait. I want to do this.”

“Echo—”

“No!” I spin and come close to stomping my foot. I crave this, and I’m done with him excusing my stupid fears because that’s all they are—stupid.

I methodically stare straight into Noah’s eyes because I’ll probably go into anaphylactic shock or seize if I outright gawk lower. The normally smooth patch of skin between Noah’s eyebrows wrinkles as he checks out the pounding spot on my forehead. I tremble when his fingers lightly trace the area, but this time, it’s not because I’m cold.

“Well?” I ask to fill the silence because the running water creates this weird vacuum effect. “Am I dying?” The answer is yes. I’m dying of embarrassment.

Noah cups my face with both hands, kisses my wound, and something inside me gives. A thawing of frozen muscles. His lips skim lower—a kiss to the end of my nose—then he tips my face up, and he gently presses his mouth to mine.

It’s a slow kiss. One that causes my heart to stop, and when it starts again, it doesn’t resume at a normal pace. It’s the type that washes away my fears and where I automatically tilt my head in a silent plea for more.

His tongue slides against my lips, and I part them. Every inch of me springs to life. Each caress of his hand on my back, along the sides of my waist, near my thighs, stokes a fire that, over the past two months, has been rising in intensity.

Noah rests both of his hands below my butt, and before I can move closer to him, he lifts me and props me onto the sink. I suck in a breath and pop open my eyes. Noah smiles at me in a way that makes me fall in love with him all over again.

“You said you’d only do that if I didn’t lower my hands and look at you,” I tease.

“What can I say? After I spoke the words, it was a done deal. I’m all about making my fantasies realities with you, Echo.”

I giggle, and Noah grows serious as he grazes his thumb against my cheek. “Are you sure about the shower?”

No. “Yes.” I blink three times.

Noah chuckles. “Right.”

“What if I want to be sure?”

Noah

Echo captures my hand in a death grip. “I mean it. I want to do this.”

And I want her to, but f*ck me, I’ll only do it if she’s a hundred percent positive. I’ve coaxed too many girls into situations they regretted. As much as I liked the high of making out, I hated the fallout when they realized they gave me too much. I loathed the hollow expression as the reality hit that what was lost could never be returned, and they wasted it on me.

I love Echo, and I will never hurt her because she’s not ready for more. “We can wait.”

“I’m tired of waiting,” she rushes out, and I freeze. She’s never said anything like that before. Echo claws at the neck of the wet shirt clinging to her body. “I’m tired of being me. This trip was supposed to change that. I was supposed to become more, and two months later I’m still stammering like a stupid child, and we’re going home next week and it’s all going to be the same. Me. You. Mom. Dad. Everything.”

Okay. This conversation has detoured far from showers, and her body convulses with another fit of shakes. If we continue to hang out in the bathroom, my dick’s going to break off from frostbite, and Echo’s going to resemble a sheet of ice.

“Echo...” I don’t know what the hell to do. I’m screwed any way I go.

“I want to do this,” she repeats.

“Okay.”

“Okay,” she says again.

Yet nothing speeds up. “I’ll get in the shower first, then you go in and if you change your mind at any time, I’ll get out.”

“Okay,” she mumbles under her breath.

I stare at her. She stares at the ceiling.

“Clothes need to come off.” Then I reassess the situation. “Or not. You can shower fully dressed, and I’d be okay with that.” Not exactly every man’s dream, but if it helps Echo...

Echo’s lips slant up. “Do you hate me?”

“No.” I slip my fingers underneath the hem of her shirt. “I can help you if you’d like.”

She finally meets my gaze, and I love the spark in her eyes. “I’m sure that would be such an imposition.”