Author: Lorelei James

“How many guys you running?”

“Fourteen. And I’m finally to the point where my crew comes to me first to ask questions, not to my father.”

“That’s quite an accomplishment.”

“Thanks. Umm. You want to see the upstairs?”

“Yep. Especially if your bedroom is up there.”

“Figures you’d be interested in that.”

Blake was suitably impressed with how she’d combined two smaller bedrooms into one large master. The amount of lace and frills in her bedroom confounded him, especially since he’d seen nothing of a girly nature anywhere else in her house. With the peach and cream color scheme, he could easily believe it was a beauty queen’s domain.

Willow sighed. “I need a shower.”

“Don’t let me stop you from stripping. After all, it is your bedroom.”

She wrapped her arms around one of the wooden posts on the bed and studied him.


“I don’t know how to say this.”

“If you want me to leave, Will, just ask.”

“No, I want you to shower with me,” she blurted.

Well, if that didn’t beat all. Blake grinned. “Then it’s a lucky thing I remembered to grab a condom.”

“Very lucky thing. But then, given your unofficial ‘always be prepared’ motto, I’m not surprised.”

Clothes flew. Willow beat him getting undressed, but not by much. He chased her into the bathroom.

No garden style bathtub for Willow. She entered an enormous glassed-in area that took up half the bathroom. Blake let out a heartfelt moan when he stepped inside the shower. Four sets of jets. Two shower heads.

“You like?”

“Mmm.” He peered at the little box below the row of nozzles. “Is that a steam shower button?”

“Yep. I get dirty on the job. My muscles get sore. I wanted this to be a place where I could just let it all melt away.”

“You and a couple friends could fit in here.”

Willow stared at him for a second.


“You’re the first person other than me who’s been in this shower.”

Blake was shocked. Every time he thought he had a bead on Willow, she threw him a curveball.

She turned the jets full on. Hot pulsing spray bombarded him from every angle. As he lingered under the stream of water, he wondered if she could hear him whimpering in sheer bliss. Blake liked nothing better than indulging in a long, hot shower.

Unless it was indulging in a long, hot shower with a hot woman.

Willow scrubbed her hair with some citrusy smelling shampoo. Then she lifted her face to the spray, giving him her back. The white lather slipped across her strong shoulders and down her spine in foamy rivulets, drawing his attention to the curve of her ass and hip. Soon nothing but clear water cascaded across her skin.

He ripped open the condom and rolled it on.

She reached for a razor lying on top of the soapdish. But Blake was too quick. He snatched it up and turned her around. “I’ll help you.”

Her eyes flashed indecision.

“I’ll be careful. I promise. Is it okay if I start at the top and work my way down?”

She nodded.

“Stand like this.” Blake pinned her arms above her head with the back of her wrists against the wall. “You look damn sexy like that.”

“No tickling me.”

“Not to worry. I’ll be the picture of restraint while I’m wielding a razor. But after that, sunshine, all bets are off.”

He squirted shaving gel on his fingers and worked it into a lather. Then he spread it across each armpit.

Willow flinched slightly.


“I’m trying.”

He scraped away the fine, dark hair until the area was smooth on each side and set aside the razor.

Holding her wrists in one hand, he maneuvered Willow under the water. Blake helped her rinse off, leisurely running his free hand down the inside of her arm, past her armpit and over her breast. He reversed the motion until each pass became a constant caress from her wrist to her ribcage.

He loved the way she moaned and leaned against him. He really loved her feminine gasp when she felt his rigid c**k pressing into her back.

Blake switched hands and gave Willow the same thorough treatment on her other side. By the time he finished she was shaking.

“Cold?” he murmured, licking droplets of water from the skin below her ear.


“Good. ’Cause I still have to do your legs.”

“I just shaved them yesterday so they don’t need it.” Willow looked at him over her shoulder. “Blake?”


“Are we done playing water torture games? Because I’d sure like you to f**k me.”

He froze. “Willow Gregory! I think that’s the first time I’ve heard you cuss.”

“That’s because I don’t cuss.”

“Working in the construction biz and around foul-mouthed welders and you don’t swear?”

“Huh-uh. Early on, my mom was afraid I’d end up with a mouth like my father’s, so she made him fine me every time I uttered anything close to a swear word. I lost the habit fairly quickly.” Her eyes narrowed. “However, I swear if you don’t f**k me right now, I will cuss and scream and throw a tantrum like you’ve never seen.”

Blake let go of her arms. He stepped in front of her, crushed his mouth to hers even as he hoisted her up against the tiled wall. His dick was in perfect position and he slid into her pu**y in one long glide.

They moaned in unison.

She was wet. Inside. Outside. She was soft. Inside. Outside.

As he began to thrust, her thighs gripped his hips. Her fingers were in his hair, urging him to keep kissing her. The slap slap slap of their skin echoed as thick ribbons of steam wrapped around them like hot silk.

Blake wanted to take his time making love to her. So he did. Pushing them higher. Slowly. Steadily. Until that moment they both needed more. Harder, faster deeper.

Her pu**y clenched tightly around his cock, milking his orgasm with the strength of hers. They held to each other as they spiraled over the edge of pleasure together.

His legs and his arms shook like he’d run a marathon. Had Willow felt that same connection? Or would she think that shower sex was always that intense?

Her breath tickled his ear. “Put me down.”

“I don’t wanna.”

“You’re going to get a cramp, and then you’ll drop me, and I’ll break my wrist or something stupid and you’ll feel all guilty, so—”

“Okay, okay.” Blake pecked her on the lips and set her on her feet. He turned all the jets off and it was suddenly very quiet.

Willow wrapped her arms around him from behind. “Thank you for helping me christen my shower, Blake.”

“My pleasure.” Would she invite other men into her shower now that he’d helped her break it in?


Why did he feel so damn jealous?

Because you aren’t a no-strings kind of guy. And she’s the type of woman you want to tie to you forever.

Twenty minutes later Willow was tossing a small bucket of wall-patching supplies into her truck bed when a familiar pickup started up the drive.

Her gaze zoomed to Blake. His hair was still damp and he had that sated look men got after sex. The fact he wore it after ha**ng s*x with her made her want to cheer. The fact that Paul, the electrician and the company’s biggest gossip, would also see that look on Blake, made her want to hide in the garage.

You’re a big girl. Not a Daddy’s girl. You’re entitled to put a big ol’ she-rocked-my-world smile on any man’s face.

Paul parked his rig next to hers but didn’t bother to get out. “Hey, Will.”

“Hey, Paul. What’s up?”

“I haven’t seen you around for a day or so. When I saw your truck out here, I thought I’d check and see if everything is okay, bein’s your dad is out of town.”

“Everything’s fine.”

Paul’s gaze flickered between Willow and Blake.

She could see Paul sizing up the situation and her first thought was to run interference. “Paul, this is Blake West. Blake, Paul Shulman.”

Blake walked over so he could shake Paul’s hand through the pickup window. “Nice to meetcha, Paul.”

“Same goes. So, Blake. What brings you to Broward?”

“Blake is filling in for Dave at LeRoy’s Tavern.”

Blake sent her a why-are-you-speaking-for-me look.

“A bartender, huh?”


“You planning to stick around these parts? Or is this temporary?”

Blake said, “It depends,” at the same time Willow said, “Temporary.”

“He’s headed back to Sundance when Dave returns,” Willow said in a rush. Shoot. She’d done it again.

“You tend bar in Wyoming?”

“Yeah.” Blake’s eyes shot daggers at Willow daring her to contradict him.

“Whereabouts in Wyoming?”


“Beautiful country. I suppose there’s always a need for bartenders.”

Blake shrugged. “There are worse things.”

Paul pointed to the open tailgate and the buckets in Willow’s truck bed. “Whatcha got there?”

“Oh nothing.” She slammed the tailgate shut, hoping to hide her overnight bag from Paul’s prying eyes. “Just a fix-up I’m doing at LeRoy’s to help Blake out. No big deal.”

But by the way Paul’s eyes narrowed, it’d become a big deal. “Since when do you hang out at LeRoy’s?”

Was she supposed to confess she’d gone on a drunken rampage she didn’t remember and trashed the place? Before Willow considered the implications, she looked at Blake instead of answering. When she realized what she’d done, it was too late.

Paul smiled, which scared Willow far worse than Paul’s scheming expression. “I won’t keep you from exercising your helpful nature, Will. When did your dad say he’d be back?”