Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 104766 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 524(@200wpm)___ 419(@250wpm)___ 349(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104766 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 524(@200wpm)___ 419(@250wpm)___ 349(@300wpm)
My heart literally skips a beat at the sight of Drew.
Stripping down, removing his tee shirt, then his shorts, he stands in his underwear at the sink, regarding me.
"Mind if I join you?" he asks, his voice a low rumble that sends shivers down my spine.
I’ve never showered with anyone before.
“Uh. Sure.” I shake my head—I don’t mind at all—lips curving into a grin. "Not at all. It's already a bit crowded in here with all these loofahs, but I think we can make it work."
He chuckles, the sound filling the space between us as he slides open the door and steps under the spray of water. I watch, captivated, as he reaches for his own shower gel, the muscles in his arms flexing as he lathers it up.
I look down.
Check out his belly, his belly button, his hips, thighs…
As if on instinct, I move closer to him, our bodies just barely brushing against each other.
The steam rises around us, creating an almost dreamlike atmosphere. His eyes never leave mine as he lifts his hand, his fingers tracing a slow, sudsy path down my arm.
I shiver.
Without a word, he reaches for the gray sponge, applying just enough pressure to create a gentle friction as he drags it against my skin.
Up my arm.
Down my arm.
Over my collarbone.
His touch is tender. “Want me to wash your back?”
“Sure.”
No one has ever washed my back before.
Obviously.
My head dips forward when he slowly spins me around so my back is facing him, and the sponge touches my skin, dragging up the center of my back. He moves it around in circles, over my shoulders, spine, down to the curve above my ass.
I tilt my head forward, allowing him better access as he works his way down my back, his movements deliberate and soothing.
It’s an intimacy that goes beyond words, a connection that's as physical as it is emotional.
Finally, I turn to face him, our bodies now pressed against each other.
His arms come around me and mine go around him and we stand, studsy, beneath the spray of the water embracing. When my forehead presses against his chest, I can almost hear his heart beating.
Tears fall but are quickly washed away by the water.
His arms tighten.
His lips kiss the top of my head.
I just want to be close to him.
DEAR DIARY…
School sucked today. Why are girls so mean to each other?
Tosha and Charity are arguing over a pair of jeans that are MIA and the whole fight is so over-the-top I want nothing to do with it. I can’t wait to go to college and get out of this town. I mean, I love my friends and stuff but we need a break from each other. Does anyone in this town leave besides the football players??? I’m not a senior so it’s not like I can have senioritis, but damn.
Get me out of here.
Grady is working and turned down a partial scholarship to Texas State. Says he’s not big enough—like, size wise?—and doesn’t want to sit on the bench his entire football career which pisses mom and dad off cause its FREE money for school and they want him to get an education. I get his point. If he wants to work on cars and own a shop, and he’s working with his hands what difference does it make if he goes and plays football at a ? On the other hand—like, it’s college? I don’t know, there’s just a lot of yelling and it’s giving me major anxiety and I hate it.
Xx
T
CHAPTER 52
DREW
I SHOWER NAKED.
The water from the shower has done its job, leaving Tess’s skin glistening and her hair damp.
We step out of the shower, and I grab a fluffy towel, opening it wide, ready to envelop her inside it.
"Time for the drying-off ceremony," I announce, waggling my eyebrows playfully. “This is a full service rinse off for you.”
I kiss her on the top of her head.
Tess smiles, eyes lighting up. "Oh really? And what does this ceremony entail?" She uses air quotes around the word ceremony.
I’m still holding the towel open, waiting for her to step in it.
"Well, we start with the classic pat dry." I demonstrate on myself with exaggerated movements, then pat her damp arm like I'm trying to put out a tiny fire.
She nods, watching intently. "Ahh, I see.”
"Next, we move on to the gentle swipe technique." I trail the towel down her arm, making sure to be overly dramatic in my motions.
“It’s a really good thing I don’t have a spray tan,” she says. “Otherwise, you would wipe it off with this technique.”
“Would I?” I’m being uber gentle.
“Uh-huh. Probably.” She watches me with amusement as I slowly move the towel over her skin to dry her off. "You're really committed to this, aren't you?"
I’m on my knees, kneeling so I can do the front—and back—of her legs.