Crash (Brazen Bulls MC #1)(34)

He’d stopped worrying about what was happening between them. He’d stopped second-guessing his impulses. He’d always been better going with his gut, anyway, and his gut wanted this woman. But his gut also wanted her safe.

Finally, he went to the doorway.

Her bathroom looked exactly as he’d expected without thinking about it: Classic. Old-fashioned but precisely decorated. Black and white octagon tiles on the floor, probably original. The original porcelain fixtures, in white. A window at the far end, with filmy white curtains. Walls painted in a pale blue, like a robin’s egg. A white shower curtain with thin blue stripes billowed gently out from the water and steam.

In a little pile on the floor between the toilet and the sink were the clothes she’d been wearing. The elastic bandage sat in a loose wad on top.

There were two thick, blue towels stacked neatly on the closed toilet seat.

Two towels.

He knocked on the jamb. “Baby?”

She peeked her head out—her hair was slicked back and darkened by the water. Her face was clean of makeup and flushed. Exactly as he had imagined. His balls went tight.

Then she smiled and opened the curtain more widely, showing him everything.

So much better than he had imagined.

While she watched him, standing there naked and shining like Aphrodite coming out of the sea, Rad slid out of his kutte, hanging it on a hook he found on the back of the door. He kicked off his boots and toed off his socks. He yanked his shirt over his head. When he dropped his jeans and kicked them away, her eyes went wide, and her smile quivered and then grew.

His cock ached something awful, and he grabbed it at the root, giving it a good squeeze and a stroke. The thought of her hand on him made him groan. His eyes never left hers, and hers were fixed on his hand and his rod.

As he walked to the shower, she stepped back, making room for him.

The water was nearly scalding hot, and he hissed in surprise when it sprayed over his back. As it struck his hands, he was reminded that he’d been brawling a few hours before. But it didn’t matter. Willa stood before him, inches away, her body flushed and wet and perfect.

“Jesus, you’re beautiful,” he groaned as he pulled her close.

She slid her palms over his chest. “So are you. It’s like you were forged from iron.”

Plenty of women appreciated his body, but no woman had said anything like that to him. He liked it.

“How’s your leg?”

She sighed and locked eyes with him, a frown drawing a line between her eyebrows. “Please stop asking about my leg. I know you’re concerned, but it’s fine, and I don’t want to think about it. I want to think about the way your cock feels pushing against my belly. I want to think about the way your hands feel. The way your chest feels on mine. I don’t care about my leg.”

Her words reeled though his head and made his arms clench more tightly around her. But he forced clarity back to the fore.

“I got a reason for askin’ now. I ain’t good at bein’ gentle. I won’t hurt you, not on purpose, and I won’t do what you don’t like, but you’re hurt already. If I get carried away…I got some worry.”

“Then let me take charge,” she said.

That wasn’t something he did, either. “Not sure I know how.”

“Just do what I say.”

At any previous point in his life, with any other woman, Rad would have laughed and refused. But this time, he nodded.

With a grin, Willa hooked her hand over his shoulder and pulled. “Turn around.”

He resisted with a chuckle. “Baby, I got a decent cock, but I don’t think it’s up to the challenge of reaching you while you’re behind me.”

“You have a wonderful cock. But we’re not f*cking in the shower, lover. You need a condom. You’ll wear a condom, right?”

He nodded. He had no worries with Willa, and he’d have happily gone without if she’d wanted it and were on the Pill or something, but he always had condoms on him. He did not trust the health of his cock to sweetbutts or random pickups, which made up the sum total of his companionship since Dahlia.

He turned around. The shower hit his chest and washed over his belly and downward. He’d gotten used to the heat, and it felt good, enhancing his arousal to the boiling point.

“Good. Now just stand there and relax. Feel.”

Rad closed his eyes and waited. A scent like almonds filled the steamy space, and then Willa’s hands slid over his shoulders like cool silk. She was washing him.

Her hands were so soft, her touch like a whisper over his skin. Then she kneaded his shoulders, and he felt her strength. She knew exactly where to increase the pressure, exactly where he carried his tension, and he groaned and threw an arm up, pressing his hand on the tile to hold himself steady.

Filling her hands again and again with the silky almond gel, she washed his neck, his arms, his back, his ass. Then her hand slid around his waist, and she washed his belly, his chest. She paused to tweak at his nipples.

Never before in his life had he ever simply stood still and let a woman touch him like this. He was a man of action and impulse. He wanted to be in control.

But this—goddamn. His eyes closed, the hot water and the close space making everything all the more intense, the weirdly powerful emotion of the past two days with her, her breasts pressed to his back as her hands stroked up and down his belly and chest, up and down, each time dipping lower—holy f*ck, he might come before she touched his cock. It rose up like it was on a pulley every time her hands got close.