D E L E T E D S C E N E

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from the night after the bonfire with Nessa and Beau

M A D I E

I didn't need to ask him twice. Bren closed the distance between us, caging me inside his arms as he pressed his palms to the shower wall. Resting his forehead against mine, he groaned as I stroked him again.

Bren's mouth lowered, and I thought he was going to kiss me. But steam swirled between our open mouths as he hovered there instead. "Why did you change your mind?" he rasped eventually.

"Nothing else matters besides you. Who cares what Nessa or Beau think." I ran my thumb over the tip of him, enjoying the slick feeling of his sensitive skin and the water running over it. "You're amazing, Bren. And I don't deserve—"

His hand flew over my mouth, cutting me off.

"What the hell did I tell you about saying shit like that?" Bren narrowed his eyes, whispering the slightly slurred words. And then those eyes fluttered shut as he groaned again. Though I wasn't sure if it was because of how I was touching him, sliding my palm over his length, or because of how I was running the tip of my tongue over his palm.

"Madie," Bren sighed, long and low. His hand fell away from my mouth.

He pressed it back against the shower wall, and I amended my earlier words. "I just want to make you feel amazing," I murmured. "Like you make me feel."

Bren sucked in a breath and stared down at me with dancing eyes. And then he kissed me hard. He thrust his tongue inside my mouth, ruthlessly tasting me. I was flooded with grainy traces of beer combined with the addictive flavor of...Bren.

I shivered, my wet hair trickling over my body. The glass-encased shower was steamy, but I longed for the hot water or Bren's body to warm me completely, to surround me.

Bren must have felt my shudder because he took me in his arms and spun us around so that I was beneath the water's spray. I couldn't help but let a satisfying sound sneak through my lips as Bren crushed against my naked front and a blazing stream ran down my back as he continued to kiss me. My fingers were still wrapped around him, but he reached between us, plucking my wrist and pulling me away.

He brought my hand to the neck of the showerhead. The water running through the metal made it fiery to the touch. "Is it too hot, or can you hold on?" Bren asked, his breath flirting with my ear.

I clutched the pipe, and warmth spread from the tips of my fingers down to my toes. "I can hold on, Bren."

"Mm, that's my girl," he murmured, making me smile. It was a little silly, but the words sent an army of warm flurries to attack my chest. Bren kissed the hollow beneath my ear, his lips brushing over my skin in a haphazard line as he took my other hand and placed it above me. I laced my fingers together.

And then I stood there, legs squeezed shut, rubbing fruitlessly against each other because I was aching to feel something besides the throbbing that had begun to overwhelm me. Water ran down my body, dripping over my breasts, rolling across my stomach. The stream practically scorched as it caressed between my legs, trailing to the floor.

Bren captured my lips with his once more. Then he took two steps back, practically hitting the far shower wall.

"Fuck, Madeline." He gaped at my body, eyes drunk from lust and Beau's endless collection of craft beers. The way Bren looked at me, I swear—nothing compared. Nothing turned me on more. And as if I hadn't already been ready to collapse from the weight of his heady gaze, Bren then reached down and grabbed his dick. He slowly stroked himself, continuing to study the scene before him—studying me.

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