She kissed up the side of his neck. “We’ll both be late for work every morning if this is a regular thing.”
Damn, he wanted this to be a regular thing. He wanted a lot of things with her to be a regular thing.
“Good thing we both have jobs with no set hours.” He dragged his hand up and down her side, just loving the feel of her skin.
“I do. I have to be there by the time the tours start.”
He thrust again, deep and slow. “Maybe you need a new job.”
“I just got this one.”
“We need a yoga studio in this town.”
She laughed and tightened around him again. She did have really good core muscle control, something she’d teased him about—and with—in Iowa too. He loved yoga.
“But what about the tour company?” she asked.
“What tour company?” He thrust again, a little harder this time.
She made a noise that was part moan, part gasp, and he did it again, just to hear that sound. He reached between them, rubbing the pad of his thumb over her clit.
Her head fell back against the wall of the shower. “I don’t know about any tour companies. I don’t care about any other job. I can’t even remember how to do yoga,” she said, her voice breathless even as she teased. “I want my job to be having sex with you in this shower.”
“That’s illegal in Louisiana,” he said with a grin, even as he thrust again while circling her clit.
“I think it’s illegal everywhere,” she said.
“Guess you’ll have to give it to me for free.”
She tightened around him again, and he groaned.
“You’re giving me plenty in return.”
For a second, his heart stopped. He wanted that to be true. Not just sexually, though he would gladly give her anything and everything she wanted in that department over and over again. He wanted to give her everything outside of the bedroom—or shower—too.
Paige didn’t need him.
She was one of the most independent women he’d ever met. And he knew a lot of them. He’d been raised by and around strong women. None of the females he knew needed their men. They wanted them. They were with them because they chose to be, not because they needed to be.
That just made it all sweeter. Having a woman choose a man rather than need him was so much more meaningful. He wanted that with Paige. For her to stay here, to be with him, would absolutely be a choice. She wasn’t from here. She didn’t have roots here. Hell, she didn’t even have a job here. To make a life here would take effort. She’d have to meet new people, find a way to make a living, adjust to new everything from weather to traditions. If she stayed, it would be purely because she wanted to.
And if she left, it would be because she didn’t want to stay enough.
Suddenly hit by a desire to make her need something badly, he gripped her ass with one hand and picked up his pace.
“Mitch,” she gasped.
With his thumb rubbing her clit, he pumped into her. “Just giving you plenty,” he said, his voice gruff.
She gripped his shoulders. “Thank you,” she started to tease. “Oh!” she cried as he hit a deep spot.
He needed to be even deeper. The slippery wall wasn’t giving him enough leverage. He pivoted and somehow managed to lift a foot to kick all the bottles off the bench. Then he sat, with her straddling his lap. They both moaned as she sank down on him.
This was perfect. He was going to thank Zeke for insisting on adding the bench.
Not only did it make it easier to hold onto her, but it made it a hell of a lot easier to lean in and take a slippery, hard nipple into his mouth. He sucked and felt the tightening around his cock.
It also made Paige start moving. She lifted and lowered herself on him, taking him deep. He reached for her clit again, but her fingers were already there.
Her head thrown back, her long, wet hair falling down her back, her finger circling her clit, she looked like every fantasy he was going to have from here on out.
Mitch just leaned back and watched.
She moved faster, her moans getting louder, her breasts bouncing, and he held her hip, trying to hang on until she was there with him.
“Mitch! Yes!”
Then she clamped down, coming hard, and he thrust up, deep, four times, then gripped her body, holding her tight, filling her as the hot waves pounded through him like the streams of water from overhead.
She sagged against him, and he pressed her against his chest.
After they’d caught their breath and she’d given him a huge smile and slid off his lap, they soaped each other from head to toe. The water was starting to run colder by the time they finally climbed out wrapped in towels.
They were also both grinning like idiots.
“Well, I really like date night so far,” Paige said.
“Same. I really should have tried this dating thing before.”
She swatted his arm. “Uh, you know how you hate talking about my proposals? I kind of hate hearing about your girls too.”
He ran a towel over his hair and thought about that. “Well, mine is born purely of intense jealousy of any man ever having so much as a minute of your attention, not to mention anything like that—” He glanced at the shower. “So, if that’s how you’re feeling, we’re more on the same page than I thought.”
She looked at him with narrowed eyes and a hand on one hip.
Fucking adorable. That’s what she was.
“You want me to confess being jealous of all your previous women? And you think if I do, it means I have some kind of deeper feelings for you than friendship or wanting to fuck your brains out?”
“Um, yes, Paige, that’s exactly what I want and what I think.”
“Huh.”
“Plus, you want to hear stories about me from my family. Like cute stories about me as a kid and stuff. That means more too.” He was feeling very damn happy about that now that he thought about it more.
“I take that back.”
“No take-backs.”
“You can’t call no take-backs now.”
“I just did. I heard you say that you like me. A lot. Like you like, like me,” he teased.
“It’s the cock.” Her gaze went over him. “And the abs. And the ass.”
He grinned and tossed his towel toward the hamper, starting for the door naked. “I mean, sure. I get all of that,” he said, with plenty of attitude. “But you like me, too.”
“I’m not going to marry you, though.”
He glanced over his shoulder. “Didn’t ask.”
“Okay. Keep it that way.”
“Sure thing… darlin’.”
He went to his bedroom to get dressed, feeling pretty damn good about… everything.
He met her back in the middle of the hallway a few minutes later.
She was in shorts, but these were more reasonable than the loose ones that barely covered her ass. These were just denim shorts. With a pale green t-shirt. And white canvas tennis shoes without socks.
And he wanted to rip it all off of her and kiss her from head to toe and make her scream his name again.
He sucked in a breath. Dammit. She was going to break his heart when she left.
13
The bayou was actually quite beautiful.