The Rival Roomies (The Rooftop Crew Book 3) by Piper Rayne

Author:Piper Rayne [Rayne, Piper]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-05-11T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter Eighteen

Dylan

After Rian uses my trimmers to trim off the excess hair, I debate whether I should have her shave the rest completely off. I could keep the scruff I’ve perfected over the years, but being this close to her feels good. If I have to look like I’m fifteen all over again to prolong this feeling, so be it.

Rian’s hands are soft as she puddles water in her palms and runs it through my beard. I ignore the droplets falling to my bare chest. Once what’s left of the beard is wet enough, she cups her hand and dishes shaving cream in it, then uses both hands to lather it on my skin.

“It’s now or never,” she says, her gorgeous blue eyes shining under the lights in the bathroom.

My hands are on either side of her hips, my body between her open legs. We’re so close, it’s nearly impossible to ignore the pull my lips feel toward hers.

“Let’s do it. Just go slow and steady,” I say in a gravelly voice.

I’m a little worried about how this will turn out. But if I’ve figured out anything in the past five days, it’s that I’m not ambidextrous. Rian had to open up the pickle jar for me yesterday. Hold on while I hang up my man card until this cast is off.

“Tell me about your tattoos,” she says. “I can’t do this in silence.”

“Which ones?”

“All, any, whatever.” Her hand shakes as she raises the razor to my face.

I grip her wrist, my thumb smoothing along the surface. “Relax. Nothing horrible is gonna happen.”

She nods, but the worry is alive in her eyes, so I do as she requested. I talk about my tattoos.

“The ones on my legs, I did to myself mostly. When I was practicing.”

“You did them yourself?” Her eyes are on my sideburns, watching the razor move down my face.

“Yeah.” I move my jaw as little as possible when I speak so I don’t mess her up. “A few of my friends, like Big Man, trusted me to tattoo them. But to get the feel of the needle to know how deep to go, you have to feel that for yourself.”

“I’ve never really looked at your legs,” she says, pulling the razor down my skin.

“Funny, I’ve checked out yours.”

She glances at me as she washes off the razor. “I don’t have any tattoos.”

“Your legs, Rian. I’ve checked out your legs.”

Her flush is the most gorgeous thing I’ve seen on a woman. She believes that she’s not beautiful. If I confessed to her how many guys I told she wasn’t available, she’d be pissed, but truth is, none of them were good enough for her. They would have broken her, and seeing Rian broken? I’d rather gouge out my eyes.

“Stop the flirting and let me concentrate. Tell me about your arms.”

I want to glance down to know which specific tattoo she’s asking about. “They all have different meanings. The apple is for Winnie, because she made a killer apple pie in the fall.

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