Kiss the Sky (Calloway Sisters #1)(40)

Thank you. I’m out of here.

And then Connor says, “My shampoo, is it in there?”

That relief is squashed by anxiety. I understand now. He wants to come into the shower. He plans to beat Scott this round and push our relationship to a place where it should already be. I try to pump my chest with more confidence, but he still wants to hop in here with me. And in order for Connor to win, I can’t be shocked by his arrival. I can’t push him away like he’s less than my boyfriend. I need to be as comfortable around him as I should be. I can’t say “wait” like I did downstairs. I have to let him keep going. Full speed ahead. No fucking brakes. Grow some bigger balls, Rose Calloway.

Yes, I think I can do this.

I scan the shelf with an arrangement of female and male hair products. I find his black bottle that costs more than my conditioner and body wash put together. “Your precious shampoo is here,” I say in my usual biting tone.

“You shouldn’t insult my shampoo. I’ve been told my hair is my second best feature.” He ignores the fact that Scott still stands outside the second shower, his hand on the glass door, frozen as he watches.

I only notice Scott from the corner of my eye. He waits for one of us to acknowledge his presence. And I refuse to entertain his snide comments.

Even though, really, it’s more than rude to be bathing in a communal shower together. I know Lily has already done it…though in her bathing suit. And I wouldn’t be surprised if Daisy has too with her new boyfriend (that no one has met yet).

I want to not care and just “go with the flow”—I’ve never really been like that.

Connor quickly unbuttons his shirt and tosses it aside, now only in black slacks. As he nears my shower, he’s clearly taller than Scott.

Connor combs his hand through his hair. “It’s thick, full—something to grab onto.”

Is he still talking about his hair? My eyebrows rise at him in question, and he shows off a million-dollar grin. I stare at his crotch, unabashed about looking now.

“And what’s your first best feature?” I challenge. Your cock, most definitely.

“My ass.” His smile widens. And with this, he steps right out of his pants and boxer-briefs. Completely fucking naked.

The glass door still separates our bodies, but Connor has just shed his clothes right in front of Scott. And he doesn’t even care. He acts like the producer deserves none of his attention, as though he’s as low as weeds in cracked pavement.

Connor is the sexiest he’s ever been.

He opens the shower door confidently, and I try not to shy away. No man has ever seen me this naked and that’s all about to change.

And in order to give Scott the middle finger, I can’t be alarmed when Connor’s naked body comes into contact with my naked body.

There’s just a whole lot of naked in this scenario.

With no room for fear.

Fearless nudity. I do like the sound of that.

I pull my shoulders back and drop my arm as Connor steps inside, careful to block my exposed body from Scott. He closes the door behind him.

His tactic to neglect the third-party works for the most part. Scott stands outside of his shower stall, just watching us in curiosity, as though he’s considering grabbing a video camera. If he does, I will snip his fucking…

My thoughts trail off as soon as Connor nears me. His eyes drop, climbing from my bare legs and rising higher and higher. His gaze momentarily pauses on the spot between my thighs, and I swear he smiles ever so slightly. Places that no man has ever touched ache for hard pressure. All because of his stupid smile. And those eyes, I suppose.

They heat me as much as the shower steam, his blue irises ascending once more from my feet to my breasts where he lingers. I check the state of my nipples. Erect. Of course. My pulse speeds crazily, and each bead of water scorches my skin.

And yet, I don’t want to move. I want to stand right here and burn with this fire.

Connor closes in, and his hardness brushes against my belly. I feel so short without high heels on. I look up. The water rains down on his body, where his muscles curve in hard, defined lines, leading to his cock. Just seeing that stirs something deep inside of me, the heat and his body numbing my brain.

A strong need heightens, the kind that would like a real dick and not a rubber one—the kind that I’ve snubbed for a long, long time. This is something I would have fantasized about at sixteen in my bedroom. Connor Cobalt entering my shower like a dominant god, his intelligence trouncing mine for a long, stimulating moment.

He reaches over me, grabbing his expensive shampoo, and his arm rubs against my shoulder. My chest collapses. Just like that.

I don’t breathe.

I can’t move.

I’m surprised my brain hasn’t completely shut off. But then I would really be pissed. My brain has never ditched me before, and like hell the first time would be because of a penis.

Fearless nudity. Right. I suck in a breath and command my confidence to return.

“Your project,” I whisper to Connor. He needs this time to work, not guard me from the sleazy producer. Normally I would protest against the backup, but I wish, more than anything, he’d stay right here.

“I finished it,” he says, his face naturally unreadable. It could very well be a lie, but I’d rather not reignite that argument.

The other shower turns on, and I hear the water splash against the tiles. Scott decided to make this situation more awkward. I’m about to look over and shoot him one of my signature death glares. But Connor rests a hand on my bare hip and maintains my position here in front of him. He stands between me and Scott, the chest-high wall also adding a bit of a barrier between us and the producer. I pull a wet strand of hair off my lip. Despite being shielded by a six-foot-four muscular man, my fury ejects. “Nice of you to wait ten minutes, Scott. If my shower ends up being cold, I’m going to—”