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“Should you?” he asks, one brow arching in mock challenge as he kisses my jaw, then my neck.

“Yes—Eddie—shower, life, coffee…” I manage, even as my legs lock around his waist.

He pulls back just enough to grin down at me, and before I can process it, he scoops me up effortlessly into his arms.

I shriek and laugh, arms flying around his neck. “Eddie!”

“Too late,” he says smugly. “You said ‘shower.’ I’m just being helpful.”

He carries me, naked and giggling, into the massive walk-in shower like I weigh nothing, my body pressed tight against his as the cool tile hits my back and the hot spray of water starts pouring down around us.

The second the water hits his skin, the tension changes again—his mouth finds mine under the spray, this time hard and claiming. My back presses against the steamy glass as he pins me there, water slicking down both of us. His hands roam my body like he’s memorizing it all over again—palming my ass, then sliding around to cup my breasts, thumbs teasing my nipples until I’m gasping against his mouth.

“I thought you were helping,” I moan, already grinding against his thigh, heat pooling low in my belly.

“I am,” he growls. “I’m helping you start your day right.”

And then he’s dropping to his knees in front of me, water cascading over his shoulders, his mouth hot and hungry as he licks a line up the inside of my thigh. My head thumps back against the glass with a soft clang, and my hands fly to his wet hair just as his tongue finds exactly where I need him most.

I cry out, hips jerking, and he just groans into me, gripping my thighs tighter.

Eddie in the shower is a menace. A beautiful, devastating, sinful menace.

By the time I’m shaking and coming undone on his tongue, I’ve forgotten every single reason I had for getting out of bed.

The rhythm of his mouth on me is maddening—hot, slow strokes that build and build until I can barely breathe. Eddie’s hands grip my thighs, keeping me spread for him, his tongue moving with such devastating precision I can’t tell where the heat from the shower ends and the fire inside me begins.

“Oh my God,” I gasp, voice echoing against the tile, my hips bucking against his mouth as he groans in response, the vibration going straight through me.

The pressure coils tighter and tighter, unbearable and perfect, until it finally shatters. I cry out with my eyes squeezed shut, my body trembling as waves of pleasure roll through me—long, blinding, soul-wrecking pulses that make my knees buckle. If he weren’t holding me, I’d be a puddle on the shower floor.

He kisses my inner thigh like he’s proud of himself—and he should be—then stands slowly, water streaming down his body, his eyes dark and hungry as they meet mine.

“You good?” he murmurs, voice rough, teasing.

“I should punish you for that,” I breathe, still catching my breath, still feeling the aftershocks in my bones.

“Oh yeah?” He grins, eyes glinting. “What’re you gonna do?”

Instead of answering, I drop to my knees.

His smirk falters—just for a second—before it morphs into something hungrier. He leans back against the slick tile as I take him in hand, feeling the hard, heavy weight of him. The water rushes around us, heat and steam clinging to our skin as I trail kisses along his hip, up his thigh, teasing him like he teased me.

“You were right,” I murmur, meeting his gaze as I stroke him slowly. “You are helpful. Let me return the favor.”

His breath hitches as I take him into my mouth—slow, deep, letting him feel every inch, every flick of my tongue. His hand slides into my wet hair, not pushing, just there, anchoring.

“Fuck, Laney…” he groans, his head falling back against the tile with a dull thud. “Your mouth is—Jesus—”

I hollow my cheeks, taking him deeper, loving the way his thighs tense, the way his voice breaks. The control he always seems to have? Gone. He’s trembling under me, hips twitching, muscles drawn tight with restraint. I take him in further, loving the way his cock stretches me, pulsing against my tongue. I breathe through my nose, relaxing my throat as I suck him into my mouth until his cock hits the back of my throat, forcing my gag reflex to tighten around his length.

“Fuck me, baby.” His words are a curse and prayer as I render this magnificent man helpless. My pussy is aching, weeping with the need to climax, but this is all about him. About showing him that he’s not the only one who can worship a body like he did mine last night and again a moment ago.

I swirl my tongue around the tip, teasing the most sensitive spot, and then take him to the back of my throat. He mumbles a cursed warning and then that’s it—he lets out a raw, strangled moan, his body jolting as he comes hot and thick into my mouth. I take all of him, savoring the taste, the sound of his raggedbreathing, the way his hand tightens in my hair like he’s holding on for dear life.

When I finally pull back, I look up at him, licking my lips, and he’s staring at me like he’s never seen anything so lethal and beautiful in his life.

“Jesus,” he pants, dragging me up to my feet. “You really don’t play fair.”