Page 116
Story: The Lineman
“That’s a comforting thought.” He chuckled. “Now get in before I freeze to death. Your house is like ice.”
I grinned but did as he said, turning the water on and stepping inside. The heat was instant, washing away the grime and exhaustion from the past two weeks.
And then Mike joined me.
Steam curled around us as he stepped in, and for a second, we just looked at each other.
Then, as though something snapped, we moved.
He pressed me against the tiled wall, his mouth claiming mine in a kiss filled with weeks of worry, longing, and pent-up desire.
I groaned into him, my fingers threading through his damp hair, pulling him closer as the water ran over us, turning everything slick and soft.
Mike pressed closer, his hands roaming, his breath hitching against my lips as I bit at his lower lip, sucking it into my mouth before releasing it with a soft pop.
He let out a low, needy sound that sent a bolt of heat straight to my gut.
“Jesus,” he muttered, pressing his forehead against mine while gripping my shaft, already throbbing and thick. “You’re supposed to be exhausted.”
I grinned, sliding my hands down his back. “Guess you’re waking me up.”
Mike huffed out a laugh, then kissed me again—slower this time, like he wanted to take his time.
Mike’s mouth was hot against mine, and I couldn’t get enough of it.
The steam curled around us, thick and cloying, and the water sluiced over our skin, making every inch of him impossibly slick beneath my touch. I wasn’t sure if it was the exhaustion, the overwhelming sense of home I felt now that I was finally back, or just him—but everything about this moment felt perfect.
Like I was supposed to be here. Like he was supposed to be mine.
Mike’s hands slid over my chest, fingertips tracing the muscles there, as if memorizing me. He pressed forward, and my back hit the cool tile, a contrast to the water and heat building between us. I let out a sharp breath as his lips moved down my throat, teeth grazing the skin just enough to send a shiver through me.
“Mike . . .” My voice was rough, hoarse with want.
He hummed against my collarbone, his tongue flicking out to taste the water beading there. “Mm?”
I swallowed hard, gripping his hips and pulling him closer. His body pressed against mine, chest to chest, thigh against thigh, and fuck, it was like he was everywhere.
I couldn’t stop touching him.
His skin was warm, and beneath my hands, I could feel the way his breath stuttered when I dragged my fingers down his spine.
“You awake enough for this?” he murmured against my jaw, teasing, his breath hot against my skin.
I let out a breathless laugh. “You’re literally feeling the answer to that question.”
Mike grinned against my throat before biting down lightly, just enough to make me groan. “Just making sure.”
His hands slipped around behind, gripping my ass as he pressed his body against mine, his thigh nudging between mine, teasing.
I sucked in a sharp breath, my hands tightening in his hair. “Jesus Christ, Mike.”
He pulled back slightly, eyes dark and hungry as he met my gaze. “Tell me what you want.”
My chest tightened. Not just with arousal, but with something deeper, something dangerous.
Because the real answer?
I wantedallof him.
I grinned but did as he said, turning the water on and stepping inside. The heat was instant, washing away the grime and exhaustion from the past two weeks.
And then Mike joined me.
Steam curled around us as he stepped in, and for a second, we just looked at each other.
Then, as though something snapped, we moved.
He pressed me against the tiled wall, his mouth claiming mine in a kiss filled with weeks of worry, longing, and pent-up desire.
I groaned into him, my fingers threading through his damp hair, pulling him closer as the water ran over us, turning everything slick and soft.
Mike pressed closer, his hands roaming, his breath hitching against my lips as I bit at his lower lip, sucking it into my mouth before releasing it with a soft pop.
He let out a low, needy sound that sent a bolt of heat straight to my gut.
“Jesus,” he muttered, pressing his forehead against mine while gripping my shaft, already throbbing and thick. “You’re supposed to be exhausted.”
I grinned, sliding my hands down his back. “Guess you’re waking me up.”
Mike huffed out a laugh, then kissed me again—slower this time, like he wanted to take his time.
Mike’s mouth was hot against mine, and I couldn’t get enough of it.
The steam curled around us, thick and cloying, and the water sluiced over our skin, making every inch of him impossibly slick beneath my touch. I wasn’t sure if it was the exhaustion, the overwhelming sense of home I felt now that I was finally back, or just him—but everything about this moment felt perfect.
Like I was supposed to be here. Like he was supposed to be mine.
Mike’s hands slid over my chest, fingertips tracing the muscles there, as if memorizing me. He pressed forward, and my back hit the cool tile, a contrast to the water and heat building between us. I let out a sharp breath as his lips moved down my throat, teeth grazing the skin just enough to send a shiver through me.
“Mike . . .” My voice was rough, hoarse with want.
He hummed against my collarbone, his tongue flicking out to taste the water beading there. “Mm?”
I swallowed hard, gripping his hips and pulling him closer. His body pressed against mine, chest to chest, thigh against thigh, and fuck, it was like he was everywhere.
I couldn’t stop touching him.
His skin was warm, and beneath my hands, I could feel the way his breath stuttered when I dragged my fingers down his spine.
“You awake enough for this?” he murmured against my jaw, teasing, his breath hot against my skin.
I let out a breathless laugh. “You’re literally feeling the answer to that question.”
Mike grinned against my throat before biting down lightly, just enough to make me groan. “Just making sure.”
His hands slipped around behind, gripping my ass as he pressed his body against mine, his thigh nudging between mine, teasing.
I sucked in a sharp breath, my hands tightening in his hair. “Jesus Christ, Mike.”
He pulled back slightly, eyes dark and hungry as he met my gaze. “Tell me what you want.”
My chest tightened. Not just with arousal, but with something deeper, something dangerous.
Because the real answer?
I wantedallof him.
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