I wanted to protest, to stop him, but my body betrayed me, arching into his touch, craving more. “Ignore them,” Jake said, still scrubbing. His other hand reached up to my shoulder, massaging it gently, like he was helping me ride the waves of confusion and sensation that were crashing through me. He could feel my hole clamp down and pulse from where his thumb was lodged, and instead of pulling away, he pressed in further, pulling out slightly only to push in again. He didn’t miss it. His other hand reached up to my shoulder, massaging it gently, like he was helping me ride the waves of confusion and sensation that were crashing through me. His body moved with this casual, effortless bounce that I couldn’t stop watching—even though I knew I shouldn’t be. I, on the other hand, looked like I’d been sketched by a child with a shaky hand. But even as the chill hit, one thing was clear: nothing about being on this team was going to be simple.
