Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 83927 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83927 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
I nod as my teeth begin to chatter and make my way over to the side. Miller bends down and effortlessly scoops me out of the water, gently placing me back on dry land. He pulls his shirt off, putting his impressive torso on display, and starts to mop up the freezing water from my body. “Come on,” he says, wrapping a hand around me as a violent shiver takes over my body. “Let’s get you dried up.”
He leads me back inside and takes me upstairs to his bedroom where he begins rummaging through his wardrobe, and I cringe, realizing I’m dripping all over his carpet. He pulls out a pair of gym shorts and a shirt and hands them to me, but he doesn’t seem fazed by the mess I’m making. He’s far too occupied by the way my wet dress clings to my body. “These are going to be huge on you.”
“Do you mind if I have a shower? I don’t think I’ll stop shivering until I do.”
“Sure,” he says, then points across the room. “Just through that door.”
“Thanks,” I take myself across the room and into the bathroom before closing the door behind me. My dress is all but glued to my body, and peeling it off is a bigger pain in the ass than getting bumped into the pool in the first place. I have no idea what possessed me to wear this particular dress. Oh, that’s right. Sophie did.
Reaching into the shower, I turn on the water and am surprised when I don’t have to wait too long for it to heat up. I hop in straight away, letting the warm water soothe my shivering body as I take a deep breath and smell Miller all around me.
He’s getting too deep inside my head.
I rinse my hair for a few minutes and attempt to get all the chlorine out of it, then give up and grab his shampoo. After washing my hair, I get busy washing my body and start lathering up, and as I do, I’m hit with a million dirty thoughts. All to do with Miller’s hands roaming over my body.
My eyes flutter closed as my hands move down my waist. My fingers skim over my clit, and I gasp, picturing the way Miller would touch me. I do it again, this time rubbing slow, torturous circles and getting a thrill at the way I smell him all around me.
His name is whispered on my lips as my fingers push up inside me, gently massaging my walls as I continue my sensual torture on my clit with my thumb. My eyes roll as my body is worked right to the edge, my breath shortening, coming in gasping pants.
“Oh God,” I whisper with a low groan, needing to brace myself against the shower wall, picturing the way Miller would touch himself in this very shower. Hell, maybe he’s even thought about me while he’s been in here.
That thought pushes me over the edge, and I come hard on my fingers, doing what I can not to cry out. I gasp for air as my high rocks through me, and I open my eyes, unable to believe what I just did here.
After realizing I’ve been in here suspiciously long, I climb out of the shower and wrap his towel around me. Glancing down at his clothes, I try to figure out how the hell I’m supposed to make this work. Picking up my underwear, I quickly realize they are way too cold and wet to put back on, and I have no choice but to go commando.
I slip on his gym pants, which I am thrilled to find have a drawstring, and I pull it as tight as it will go. Even though it’s still a little big, I’ll have to make do. Now for the shirt. I pull it over my head and find myself swimming in the soft fabric, so I bunch it up before knotting it at my waist. Finishing off my drowned-rat look, I roll up the sleeves a few times and hope I look somewhat cute. Though to be honest, I don’t think he’ll notice. Not with the way my nipples are protruding from the soft cotton like two little targets begging for attention, making it all too obvious that I’m not wearing a bra.
I look at myself in the mirror. Hmm, not bad. I do what I can to fix up my makeup, which has smudged under my eyes, and then search for a hairdryer. Which, of course, he does not have.
Brushing my fingers through my hair, I throw it up into a bun before collecting my wet things from the ground and stepping out of the bathroom. I find Miller still in his bedroom, sitting on the edge of his bed with his intense eyes on me. “You didn’t have to wait,” I say, my cheeks flushing as I realize he was just out here while I was going to town on myself.