The Lake House Had One Bed Left for Our Parents' Wedding Week, So I Shared It With My Soon-to-Be Stepbrother novel · Chapter 5 of 24

Chapter 5: Hot Water

The water ran cold for a moment and then it didn't.

It poured down out of an old brass rain head onto the slate floor of the outdoor shower, and steam rose against the cedar boards and drifted out over the top of the stall.

It was five in the afternoon.

The sun was still warm on the roof of the garage.

A cousin's radio was playing somewhere on the far side of the lawn.

I was standing naked in a wooden box with Jack Elam's hands on my hips.

"Turn around," he said.

I turned to face the wall.

He stepped in close behind me and I felt all of him against my back, wet and hot and hard.

"Put your hands flat on the boards."

I did.

The wood was warm and slick under my palms.

He lathered a bar of lemon soap between his hands, and he took his time.

He started at my shoulders and worked down my spine, slow and heavy, thumbs pressing into the muscles beside it.

I let my head drop forward and groaned.

"You carry everything here," he said. "All of it. Look at these knots."

"It's a six-hour drive."

"It's not the drive."

His soapy hands slid around my ribs and up over my breasts.

He squeezed them, slowly, and rolled my nipples between his fingers until I pushed my ass back into him.

He was thick against the cleft of me.

"Jack."

"I know."

"Do something."

"I am," he said in my ear. "I'm washing you."

"Wash faster."

He laughed, and then his hand slid down over my stomach and between my legs.

His fingers found me slick in a way that had nothing to do with the water.

"There she is," he said. "Look how ready you are. We just did this at noon."

"Eleven forty."

"You're counting."

"I'm greedy."

"Good," said Jack. "I love that."

He rubbed my clit in slow, lazy circles, and my knees began to shake, and I pressed my forehead against the boards.

"Put your feet apart," he said. "More. A little more. Good girl."

I'd never liked being called that.

I liked it when he said it.

I felt the head of his cock slide between my thighs from behind, wet and heavy, and rub against my clit, back and forth, with the water pouring off both of us.

"Please," I said.

"Please what?"

"Fuck me. From behind. Right now."

"Say where."

"In my pussy, Jack."

He took himself in his hand and found my entrance and pushed in slowly, one inch at a time.

I gasped against the wood.

It was a different angle altogether.

It was deeper, and tighter.

Every inch dragged across the front wall of me and lit up a spot I hadn't known was there.

"Oh my God."

"Breathe," he said, and stopped when he was all the way in.

His hands came up and covered mine on the boards, fingers laced through mine.

"Don't move your hands," he said. "Hold on."

"Yes."

He drew back, slowly, and pushed in again.

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