18. Heated and Steamy

Heated and Steamy

The Only Way to Enjoy A Shower

S unday morning arrives, and as I slowly come out of sleep, there's a weird, lingering oh my god sensation hanging in the back of my mind. Did I seriously just let Sebastian, the cocky-ass vampire, eat me out and... finger me on the rooftop last night? Or was that some kind of fever dream brought on by sheer exhaustion?

Shaking off the thoughts as best as I can, I throw myself out of bed and head straight for my ensuite bathroom. It's not exactly luxurious—a tiny medicine cabinet, a sink barely big enough to wash my hands in—but the shower is decent, and right now, it's exactly what I need.

Focus, Zaria. Phase 3, I remind myself, trying to push the memory of Sebastian's smirk and his hands out of my mind. Phase 3 is all about figuring out how Kyla's managed to be so good in class but so abysmally useless when it comes to anything practical. She's a clear cheater, but how is the big question.

As the hot water pours over me, I let my thoughts drift. Kyla's arrogance, her perfect grades… none of it makes sense. And if I'm going to take her down, I need to find out where she's slipping up. There has to be a way to expose her, to show everyone that her success is built on lies. But how is she cheating? I need something tangible, something to—

I swear I hear my bedroom door creak open. I freeze for a second, turning the water lower and listening. "Hello? Someone there?" My voice echoes slightly in the small bathroom.

"It's just me," Derek calls back, and I sigh with relief.

"Derek, how the hell did you get in here?" I exclaim, turning the water back on more.

He chuckles. "Z, you're the only witch smart enough to hide a key under the fire extinguisher at the end of the hall. I figured that out ages ago. Thought I'd come by and see if you were up."

Of course he did. Because Derek knows me far too well. I roll my eyes, but I can't help the small smile that creeps across my face. "Make yourself comfortable," I call back. "I'll be out in a minute."

I turn my attention back to the water, letting it cascade down my shoulders, easing some of the tension from my body. I close my eyes again, thinking about everything ahead of me today, the plan with Kyla, the weird mate bond situation, and the fact that Derek—steady, dependable Derek—is here, always close by when I need him.

Just as I settle into the moment, I hear the shower door slide open behind me, and before I can react, I feel Derek's hands on my waist, his touch firm yet gentle. My breath catches, the cold tiles pressing into my front as his body leans in behind me. "What are you doing?" I manage to stutter, caught off guard by how forward he's being.

He leans closer, his breath warm against my neck. "You told me to get comfortable," he teases, his voice low and playful. "And now I'm comfortable."

His lips brush against the side of my neck, and I shiver—not from the cold but from the unexpected intimacy of the moment. His touch sends sparks through my skin, and I'm suddenly hyperaware of the tension that's always been between us. My mind is racing, not sure how to respond to this shift in dynamic. We've always flirted, but this… this is new.

As his hands slowly trail up my sides, a warmth builds in the pit of my stomach, mingling with the goosebumps spreading across my skin. I'm thrown off balance, unsure of how to navigate this moment. It's not that I don't trust Derek—I do—but this is Derek . My friend. The one who's always been there, steady and reliable. Now, with his body pressed against mine, his breath hot against my neck, it's like the air between us has changed.

I try to muster a witty comeback, something to lighten the mood, but the words get stuck in my throat as his lips find that sensitive spot just below my ear. My mind scrambles to keep up, but my body betrays me, leaning into his touch, my thoughts clouded with the sensation of him so close.

I manage to find my voice, though it's softer than I intend. "This is… unexpected."

Derek pauses, his hands still resting on my waist, his breath steady as he leans in closer. "I've been holding back, Z," he admits, his voice lower, more serious than usual. There's a tension between us, thick and undeniable, as his hands gently turn me to face him. Before I can react, his lips crash into mine with a hunger I wasn't prepared for. It's intense, fiery, and I'm melting into it faster than I can stop myself.

Fuck. These boys are making me lose all my sense of restraint. What happened to waiting until after the Kyla situation? Or maybe they just decided they don't care—honestly, at this moment, I'm not sure I do either.

Derek's kisses become more insistent, his lips trailing down my neck, over my chest, and lower. My pulse races as I feel exposed under his gaze, under his touch—naked, wet, and completely vulnerable, but not just from the shower. His mouth finds its way lower, and when his tongue brushes against me for the first time, I nearly lose control.

He applies gentle pressure at first, teasing, then he grabs my leg, lifting my knee over his shoulder. Every nerve in my body feels like it's on fire, and my hands instinctively tangle into his hair, pulling him closer. He takes his time, his tongue tracing deliberate circles, getting closer but never quite giving me what I need. It's maddening.

My breathing becomes wild, erratic. The heat in my body builds and builds, threatening to spill over. I can't think straight, not with him working me like this. He pauses for a second, his lips trailing light, teasing nips along my thigh—gentle, but just enough to leave a mark. I can't help the moans that escape my lips, hot and breathless.

He's driving me to the edge, and it's all I can do to hold onto him, my legs shaking from the mounting pleasure. His fingers press into me, curling in just the right way, hitting that perfect spot that sends electric sparks shooting through me. This —this is not what I expected when I stepped into the shower this morning.

But just as I feel myself teetering on the brink, he slows. I almost cry out in frustration.

"W-What are you doing?" I manage to ask, my voice a breathless whisper.

"Do you really want it to be over so quickly?" His voice is a low, teasing murmur against my skin, and it sends shivers down my spine.

"Fucking finish the job before I cry," I groan, my frustration edging into desperation.

He chuckles, that familiar cocky smirk clear in his tone. "You? Cry? I'd love to see that."

In one swift motion, I grab his head and push him back into place, demanding he finish what he started. He obliges, but agonizingly slow, drawing out every last sensation until my legs are trembling from the overwhelming rush of it all.

His fingers quicken, his lips and tongue working in perfect rhythm, and it's only moments before I'm thrown over the edge, a cry escaping me as my body loses control. The pleasure is all-consuming, washing over me in waves, leaving me breathless and weak.

As I come down from the high, the water feels cold against my flushed skin, and I'm hyperaware of the difference in temperature. Derek stands, pressing into me as his lips find mine again, and I can taste the remnants of everything he just did to me.

My mind is spinning, torn between the intensity of what just happened and the reality of my situation. How am I supposed to choose between them? Hurting either one of them would destroy me… and the truth is, I'm not sure I can choose.

As Derek and I step out of the bathroom, my towel wrapped tightly around me and his clothes clinging to his damp body, I stop dead in my tracks. There, sitting casually on my bed like he owns the place, is Sebastian. And in his hands? My new grimoire— the one I've been painstakingly rewriting .

Derek's face immediately twists in irritation. "What the hell are you doing here?" he snaps, tension filling the room instantly.

Sebastian barely looks up, his smirk all too familiar. "Curiosity," he says nonchalantly, flipping through the pages as if he's examining the most boring book in the world. But I can feel the heat rising to my face—not from anger, but from sheer embarrassment. Oh God , I was just with Derek… after what happened with Sebastian last night. Guilt gnaws at me, twisting my stomach in knots.

Derek steps forward, arms crossed. "And what exactly were you curious about?" His voice is tight, but the annoyance is clear.

Sebastian finally glances up, his dark eyes gleaming with mischief. "Oh, I just thought you had some experience, that's all," he says with a sly grin. "But funny enough, unlike last night, I didn't hear Zaria calling out your name." He shrugs, clearly enjoying himself.

Derek doesn't even miss a beat. He grabs the nearest notepad from my desk and hurls it at Sebastian's head. Sebastian, of course, catches it effortlessly, like he knew it was coming. "You know you're doing it right," Derek retorts, "when the girl can't even breathe enough to scream anyone's name."

The back-and-forth banter continues, each jab more infuriating than the last. And me? I've officially checked out. Let them insult each other, I decide. I've had enough. Crossing the room, I head straight to my wardrobe. As I'm rifling through for something to wear, I can still hear them throwing insults like it's some sort of sport.

Grabbing a shirt and jeans, I toss them onto the bed. I loosen the towel around me, fully prepared to change in front of them out of sheer frustration.

Suddenly, the room goes silent.

I pause, towel still in place, and slowly turn around to find both Derek and Sebastian staring at me— intensely .

"What?" I say, exasperated. "You two were too busy fighting. Can't I just change without an audience?"

Sebastian, of course, is the first to grin, his trademark smirk playing on his lips. "Oh, you can definitely change," he says, voice smooth as silk.

Derek chimes in with, "Maybe just… do it a little slower?"

I roll my eyes so hard it's a miracle they don't stay stuck in my head. Annoying twats, I mutter under my breath. Gathering my clothes, I march right back into the bathroom, slamming the door behind me for good measure.

As I change, I can still hear their snickering through the door, but I ignore them. Boys. Why do I even bother?