be my baby ; jk

16.

16 | 𝗦𝗛𝗢𝗪𝗘𝗥.
[𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴! 𝘴𝘮𝘶𝘵 ]

"I... need you to rub the paint off my back Jean," you said, looking up at him as your arms were crossed against your chest.

"You gotta help me."

"How the fuck did paint even get on your back?" he asked, lightly grabbing your shoulders, turning you around so your back was facing him.

"You're asking me?!" you hissed, slightly turning your head to the side.

"Shut up and hand me the Shampoo," he grabbed your head and turned it back around.

When his soft, big hands finally rubbed your back, you closed your eyes, feeling the shiver down your spine. He was so gentle with it and made sure not to rub it off too roughly.

Jean, on the other hand, could feel his composure beginning to slip away, as he couldn't help but admire your body. Every inch of it. The curves of your bare body were casting a spell on him.

"Is it off?" you asked, snapping him out of his thoughts. You thought he was done since he stopped rubbing your back. He shook his head, widening his eyes.

"Uh... yeah, your backs clean now."

You nodded, turning around to face him again. That was even worse, since the way you looked up at him right now, and the way your small hands didn't really do their job to fully cover your breasts, made him feel hazy.

"You're wearing panties, because?..." he asked, making you look down. "I didn't want to make you feel uncomfortable or anything," you excused, shrugging your shoulders.

"But... I'm literally naked," he said. You nodded as your eyes sheepishly wandered his body, dipping below his waist. "Yeah... you are."

"And my eyes are up here." he grinned, his index finger lifting up your head.

"Right."

A slight grin formed his lips as he saw your flustered expression and light blush on your face. His gaze went down to your neck and chest. "You didn't rub the paint off yet?" he asked, his finger letting go of your chin and slowly going down to your neck and collarbone. His fingertips tracing down your upper body every now and then was something that made you feel so nervous, you didn't even hear him and what he said.

"I said give me the soap."

You looked up at him, taking the shower gel in your hand, waiting for him to open his hand for you. When he did, you put some of the gel in his palm, which he rubbed against his hands to make it soapier. You rose an eyebrow at him, confused as to why he didn't use it on his body.

His hands slowly reached to hold yours, which were over your chest. "Can I?" he asked, your body heating up in an instant. All you did was nod.

He didn't hesitate one bit and slowly pulled your arms down to your sides, your bare chest now visible for him. His eyes wandering down to glance down at your breasts, he took a moment to appreciate how your hitched breathing caused them to rise and fall.

His hands slowly reached for your neck, gently rubbing the paint off of your skin, then to your shoulders, afterward to your collarbone, and further down to your breasts. And after a while, he couldn't resist anymore and took hold of both of the soft mounds, your body twitching a slight bit at his touch.