“Okay.” I watch him discard his sweaty shirt and shorts.
He looks at me before he rounds the corner to the bathroom. “You coming or what?”
I bite my smiling lip and begin stripping off my clothes, even though I already showered earlier. I take off my jewelry and pull my hair up, and walk into the bathroom, which is already starting to fill with steam.
When I step around the glass wall that encloses half of the shower, I pause to drink him in. His elbows are pointed up to the ceiling as he washes his hair, and lather is dripping down his chest and stomach, following the lines of the V between his hips. He rinses the shampoo from his hair and reaches for the soap.
“You didn’t waste any time, did you?” I ask, stepping into the shower with him.
“Just wanted to get it out of the way.”
I laugh and walk under the water, taking the soap from him. “Mind if I help?” I rub the soap between my hands until it lathers and then I rub it over his painted chest and shoulders, kissing his skin where the water rinses it clean. I walk around him and wash his back, taking my time massaging his thick muscles. I rub his round bottom and he groans quietly, sparking a fire that slowly sears across my skin.
He turns around and pulls me against him, pressing our wet bodies together, and his mouth consumes mine. I wind my fingers in his wet hair, and he tugs my bottom lip between his teeth before picking me up and pressing me against the shower wall. He holds me there while I wrap my arms and legs around him and then he reaches between us and draws his hips back, guiding himself into me with a husky groan.
I exhale a satiated breath as he fills me up and satisfies a place deep inside me. Then he pulls his hips back and pushes into me hard, making me cry out and hold on to him tighter. He does it again, and again, pressing me against the wet marble tiles with each strong thrust, over and over, until I can’t take it anymore. I bring my mouth to his and kiss him hard, and he moves faster, sending flames racing across my wet skin, searing up my legs and wrapping around me until they’ve completely consumed me. “Sam,” I cry, squeezing him tightly.
I soften beneath the weight of his strong body pushing me against the shower wall as he shudders inside me, groaning softly against my neck and grinding his hips against mine in an effort to bring us closer, as if it were possible.
He lifts his head and his shoulders rise up and down with ragged breaths. “I love you”—he smiles—“so damn much.”
I hold his flushed cheeks in my hands and kiss his wet lips. “I love you too.”
He lowers me onto my wobbly legs and I hold on to him as I find my footing on the wet tiles. “First shower sex,” he says with a satisfied grin.
“Um, if memory serves me, we had lots of shower sex in the Bahamas. In lots of different showers,” I say, narrowing my eyes.
“Vacation sex doesn’t count,” he says, following me out of the shower. “This was our first shower sex at home.”
I laugh into a towel, but Sam pulls it away from my face and says seriously, “In our home. In our shower.”
I pull my eyebrows together at the unfamiliar thought and nod, trying to will Sam’s apartment to feel like home. But first I have to rid myself of the feeling that my real home is nestled on the tree-lined street I drove down this morning for the last time.
“You okay?”
“Yeah. I just need to unpack and get settled in, that’s all.” I smile and wrap myself in the towel. “Now that I have the rest of my stuff, I can do that.”
“Speaking of which…” He follows me into the bedroom. “How did it go?”
“Drew wasn’t there, so, fine I guess.”
I see the contentment on his face as he watches me gather my clothes out of the pile in the corner of the room. “So how did you get your stuff?”
“Janice was there. And to say she wasn’t happy with me is the understatement of the year.”
“That bad, huh?”
“Janice Christiansen can be your best friend or your worst enemy. Right now, I’m behind enemy lines.”
“I knew I should have gone with you.”
“It was fine. She actually softened up a little before I left.” I grab the manila envelope out of the bin I put it in for safekeeping. “She gave me this.”
“What is it?’
I plop down on the bed and look at him. “The deed to the studio.”
He furrows his brow and sits down beside me. “He just gave it to you? Free and clear?”
I shrug. “I told you, Drew’s not a bad guy. Janice said it’s his way of letting go.”
“It’s his way of messing with your head.”
“What?” I roll my eyes at the notion—even though I wasn’t planning on taking the studio free and clear—and I start getting dressed. “Is it so hard to believe that he just wants to move on?”
“Okay, let’s say he does. But then how do you move on?” He gets up and heads back into the bathroom.
“What do you mean?” I ask, following him.
“It’ll always be the studio that he gave you. There’ll always be some small piece of him in it. You think he doesn’t know that?”
“It doesn’t matter if he does. I’m with you, Sam. I think we’ve established that.”
“I’m sorry, I’m just having a hard time understanding. So he can buy you a studio and give it to you outright, but I can’t?”
“I wasn’t going to take it as a gift. I was already planning on talking to him about buying it…somehow. I still plan to.”
“And you really think he’ll let you do that now? He’s already signed the deed over to you, Lucy.”
“I don’t know. Yes?”
“Luc, please…will you just consider buying a new studio? One that isn’t tied to the Christiansens?”
I chew the corner of my mouth, trying to ignore the turmoil that’s clouding my head. I love my studio. I love that it’s where I met Sebastian and where I held my first art exhibit. It’s where Sam and I found each other again. But it’s also where Drew and I began our first venture together as an engaged couple. We oversaw the renovations together, we opened the doors together, and we celebrated it together. Sam’s right. Drew will always be a part of its history.
“Okay. I’ll think about it.”
Chapter 7
Lucy
He wants me to buy another studio,” I say to Sebastian, who pauses mid-sip and lowers his soy cinnamon dolce latte.
“But Drew gave you this one, no strings attached. It was the best-case scenario.” He takes another sip.
“Sam thinks there are strings attached.” I sip my latte macchiato and sigh. “He thinks it’s Drew’s way of keeping me tied to him. I don’t know if it is or not, but it’s really bothering Sam that Drew gave it to me.”
“Well that sounds like Sam’s problem.”
“But, what if I feel that way a little too?” I ask over the rim of my paper coffee cup.
Bas takes my hand and drags me to the middle of my brightly lit studio, gesturing at the walls that are adorned with my paintings. “You created this. No one gave this to you. These paintings belong to you.”