“Of course. One needs to keep one’s hotness factor in mind at all times.”

Monica poured more shower gel into her hands and finally—thank God—worked it over his cock, leisurely, with long, slick strokes. Straightening his arms, Cal placed his hands on the tiled wall and threw his head back, enjoying each pass of her hands.

She worked him until his self-control nearly snapped. “Monica.” At the sound of his grating plea, she eased off, placing her hands on his hips before reaching around and caressing his ass.

That was better. Her hands on him, sliding over his skin, the warm water hitting him at every angle—it felt amazing, but he could hold on as long as she wasn’t wanking him off. “I’m going to have to touch you soon. It’s rather imperative.”

She leaned forward and licked his nipple. As she gazed up at him, her wet lashes clinging together, her cheeks pink from the humidity, Monica shook her head. “But I’m not through.”

He reached down and grabbed her wrists. “It’s my turn. I insist.” He let go of her long enough to snatch the bottle and pour a generous amount into his own palm. Then he began sliding his way over her breasts. His hands were slick against their fullness and skimmed over her nipples. She gasped, and he did it again. He let himself play with her. He hadn’t spent nearly enough quality time with them. Not as much as he’d like, at any rate. They were firm and heavy in his hands.

Monica guided her fingers along his forearms. “That feels so good. Don’t stop.”

He bent down, and taking her nipple in his mouth, suckled until she cried out. “Cal.” Releasing her, he smiled against her breast.

He traced a path to her waist, then over that ass he couldn’t get enough of. With his middle finger, he followed the seam of her bottom and teased her little hole some more, slipping the tip inside. Lord, she was tight.

“Cal.” She rested her chin on his chest.

“If you want me to stop, tell me now.”

“No, I like it.”

Cal worked his finger in a little farther. Monica retaliated by licking a circle around his nipple, then flicking it with her tongue.

He monitored her breath. She was panting, but relaxed, not clenching around him.

Cal lightly glided his finger in and out of her while she wrapped one leg around his thigh. She smoothed her palms down his back, propping her hands at his waist. When she started breathing a little harder, he increased the pace. She may lose her Miss Prim moniker after all.

“Cal, I want you inside of me. Now.”

So demanding, his Monica. Never afraid to ask for what she wanted. At least not where sex was concerned.

Tenderly, Cal removed his finger from inside her. He reached to the stone bench and retrieved a condom packet, hastily rolling one on and letting the package flutter to the shower floor.

Lifting her by the waist, Cal settled her back against the wall. Before he could thrust inside of her, she stopped him by tugging on his hair.

“Hey, I want it hard this time.” She linked her ankles behind his back and fingered the side of his neck. “None of that steady-wins-the-race business.”

He laughed at her use of the old expression. No, Monica definitely wasn’t shy about what she wanted. “I’m sorry, love, do you think you’re in control here?”

She nodded. “Yep. In the office, you had it your way. Now I want it hard and fast.”

“Like a good car.”

“If that analogy works for you.”

Cal reached down and positioned his cock at her tight entrance. With one swift thrust, he drove inside her. God, that felt good, being inside Monica Campbell. Having her stare up at him with passion-filled blue eyes, with her lips parted, her face damp, her hair a tangled, wet mass—Cal couldn’t remember when he’d seen anything more lovely.

“And what if I decide to go slow?” With an unhurried movement, he withdrew almost all the way before easing back into her inch by inch. “Like this.”

“Then I’ll die of old age by the time I come.”

“With a car, sometimes you have to start off at an even pace.” He continued his slow retreat before stroking into her pussy once more. “You have to take it easy before you get her onto the open road.”

She raked her nails down his back. “Damn it, Cal, I’m not a fucking car.”

“No, darling, you’re not.” Cal closed his eyes. He couldn’t stare down at her, look at her tits squashed tight against his chest, or he’d start hammering into her. Teasing her was agony. But so delightful, he wanted to hold out for a few minutes more. “You’re a sexy, exciting woman.”

“And you are a well-hung stud of a man. That voice of yours,” she cooed, “it makes me want to get on my knees and suck you dry. It makes me want to bend over and let you have your naughty way with me while you slap my hot ass.”

Cal stopped and opened his eyes. “I know what you’re trying to do.”

“Is it working?”

Cal let go of her hip and grabbed one of her breasts, pinching her nipple hard. “Yes.” He slammed his mouth over hers and began doing what she’d asked. He pounded into her, pulling out and plunging back in, digging his hand into her hip. He had to remind himself to be a bit gentler with her and relax his grip. Cal didn’t want to damage her lovely skin.

Monica Campbell made him lose all reason. Filling her, thrusting into her—it felt so right. Made him block out all of his problems, all of his worries.

He sank into her, retreated, then did it again. She took every stroke, absorbed each thrust. Cal wanted her to come first, but bloody hell, he was close. Gritting his teeth, he tried picturing Monica in one of her somber suits. God, even that was a turn on, because he knew exactly what she wore beneath those drab clothes. Sexy red bras. Fuck.

Cal clenched his jaw and continued working in and out of her. Harder, faster. Filling her up. Fucking brilliant, that—being balls deep inside Monica Campbell. He didn’t want it to end, yet he needed release.

He let go of her nipple and slid his hand between her legs. Using his thumb, he flicked her distended clit. Back and forth, he grazed it. Still, he kept up the pace, driving into her without losing his rhythm. A difficult maneuver, but Cal was determined to give her the ride she deserved.

With a cry, Monica dug her nails into his shoulders and came. Now Cal allowed himself to come too. Helpless, he clamped down on her hip. With a flood of pleasure crashing through him, Cal pressed his lips against her hair and groaned. So good. So goddamned good.

Screwing his eyes shut, he continued to plunge into her, even after he was empty. And he remained inside her as he tried to catch his breath.

After a few minutes, his brain jolted back to life. “Well, was that hard enough for you? Any harder, and I might have knocked us into the next room.”

She nodded against his shoulder. “That was fucking awesome,” she muttered.

That might be the nicest compliment he’d ever received.

He supported her legs while she unwound them from his hips, then set her on her feet. “I concur. And that’s the quote I want on my sex trophy.”

Monica rested against the wall and laughed. Placing one hand on his chest, she gazed up at him. “I could walk before, but I’m not sure I can now. You may have to carry me to the car.”

Cal felt a little shaky himself. “Let me get you a towel.” If he had his way, she wouldn’t go home tonight. And he wasn’t above using bribes to get her to stay. He shut off the shower and stepped out. A lemon-scented fog clouded the room and coated the mirror.

After discarding the condom, Cal grabbed a thick white towel embroidered with the casino’s initials and took it back into the stall. Monica stood exactly where he’d left her, slumped against the shower tile. “There’s something you’re forgetting.” He bent down and started with her ankles, drying one leg, then the other. “I have chocolate cake.”