“What?”

My chest catches as our eyes meet. I bite my lip. “Are you…He-Man?”

His chin goes up as his eyes lower to half-mast. “Damn, Buttercup, I’ve been waiting weeks for you to ask me that.”

Maverick—or should I say, He-Man—is showering while I furiously set the table and finish making lemonade.

He’s in my freaking shower…naked.

I check the clock on the wall. It seems like he’s been in there forever, although in reality it’s only been fifteen minutes. Feeling flustered by the images my mind is conjuring up, I march down the hall to knock on the door and let him know everything’s done.

Just as I raise my hand, Han comes up behind me and puts his front paws on the bathroom door, which of course isn’t shut all the way, so it opens. Darn cat.

I don’t mean to spy on Maverick. Really it’s just an accident that I peek through the crack in the door and see the mirror, which shows the glass shower enclosure…and his naked form. I swallow hard at his broad chest, his thick arms as he scrubs his hair, the drops of water as they run down his pecs to that deliciously tempting V, right down to his—

Our eyes meet in the mirror and I take a step back, out of sight.

Shit.

The water turns off.

I clear my throat. “Everything’s ready,” I say, projecting my voice.

The shower door opens and shuts. “Do you think dinner can wait?” he says.

I can’t see his face, and it’s killing me, so I step forward a little so we can talk. Before I realize it, my feet have taken me right into the bathroom, and it’s not an accident. My body knows what it wants.

“Wait for what?” I say.

He’s standing there in front of me, and I blink rapidly, my traitorous eyes tracking a wayward droplet of water as it skirts down his corded neck, past his shoulders, and to his legs.

“Buttercup, I think you know what.”

The air is hot and humid, making my face damp as I stand within a few feet of him. My hands itch to touch him, to caress that utter perfection, that body that’s been honed by years of hard work and training.

“Delaney,” he says, and I hear the command in his tone, the sheer confidence that he knows I want him.

“You’re naked,” I say, averting my gaze and looking up at the ceiling.

“And you’re not—why?”

I take a deep breath.

“Delaney.” His tone is silky. “Look at me.”

I do and my body shudders with built-up need, taking him in. God, I want to be naked. I want to throw myself all over him and satisfy this craving, but…

“I want you, Delaney, and it’s killing me slowly.”

I suck in a sharp breath as his hand moves to caress his hard cock. He’s unapologetic and proud as he pumps from tip to root, his palms working over the velvety-looking skin of his hard, long member.

“He-Man has a big sword,” I say breathlessly.

“Damn straight.” He rolls his fingers over the mushroom-shaped head as he bites his lip, making me bite my lip. His breathing increases as his chest rises, and I’m filled with the need to be the one to make that noise come from him.

Desire swirls in his gaze. “This is all for you…you.”

He releases his grip and I whimper, missing the sight of him pleasuring himself. He takes a step toward me and threads his hands through my hair, tugging at the pins that hold the buns together. With a touch so light it makes me shiver, he trails his fingers down the sides of my neck and onto my shoulders.

“You’re wet,” I say, watching the water drip down his chest.

“Are you?”

“Yes.”

He murmurs his approval softly, and a thousand thoughts fly at me at once, telling me to stop, to not get this close to another athlete, but I’m past caring.

“This is crazy,” I murmur.

“Crazy good,” is his reply.

“It’s probably a mistake,” I add.

“Best fucking mistake ever,” he says before taking my mouth, his full and sensuous lips sliding over mine, parting them until I sink into him and revel in the sensation of him against me.

Strong hands cup my face as his tongue tangles with mine, and I put my hands on top of his then whimper with need.

“Delaney,” he whispers in my ear as his mouth explores the tender curve of my neck and the hollow of my throat. His teeth nip at my skin, and I groan out his name.

With a deftness that doesn’t surprise me, he has me out of my pink workout top and sports bra. He backs me up against the wall and kisses me, sighing into my mouth as my hands snake around his shoulders and cling to him. His cock is pinned between us, pressing into me, and I swivel my hips against it.

His hand skates across my breast teasingly and his mouth follows, capturing my nipple and making me moan.

Is it possible to orgasm with just this?

Why am I surprised? It’s him.

His hand curls around my ass and my leg hooks around his hip, needing friction. With a groan, he pushes my yoga pants down to my feet, puts my leg back around his hips, and slides his fingers underneath my panties. I’m thankful I put on the pink lace ones this morning, but those thoughts vanish as his fingers brush back and forth, teasing my clit and the entrance to my core. He fingers me slow and then fast, his lips sucking my collarbone as I toss my head back and take in much-needed air. The scent of him fresh from the shower, the wetness of his skin, the sheer beauty of him—it all overwhelms me.

My pelvis moves with him as my spine tingles, the energy building and heating my insides. I’m putty in his hands as he touches me, his forehead pressing against mine.

“You’re dripping for me,” he says, and I moan. I can’t do anything else but be at his mercy as he plays me. Our breaths mingle together and when our eyes meet, I combust.

Fireworks go off as I come, my body vibrating against his hand, my walls reverberating with bliss. I place both hands on his shoulders to hang on, the aftershocks of the quake keeping my body undulating against him. He watches intently, that piercing gaze of his so open and honest and needy that I reach up and kiss him.

“That was…” I don’t know what to say. Amazing seems so cliché; so does awesome.

He seems to know I have no words, looking as bemused as I am by our explosive chemistry. “I didn’t plan on this. I was just taking a shower and I saw you…” He swallows, his eyes searching my face. His arms curl around my waist. “Do you want more?”

I feel his cock brushing against my panties, which are now back in place. All it would take is for him to push that fabric aside and slide into me.

“I’ll be your scabbard,” I murmur, and he flashes me a grin then swoops me up in his arms.

“You’re a nut,” he says as I point him to my bedroom amid giggles.

He’s not even winded by carrying me, and I sink into his skin, wanting to bury myself in him.

He laughs as he sets me on my bed and scoots me over until we’re under my covers, face-to-face.

“You okay?” he asks.

I pause, my brain spinning. I’ve had a moment to think between here and the bathroom, and I’m not sure.

It’s like he reads my mind. “I’m not him, Delaney. I’m never going to cheat on you.”

I swallow. “So this isn’t just a spur-of-the-moment hook-up?”

His hand on my waist tugs me closer. “It’s going to take a million hook-ups to get you out of my head.”