Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 88460 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 442(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88460 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 442(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
My breath locks in my chest as her hands meet my shoulders, smooth and slick with soap, gliding over my skin. I tilt my head back under the water, exhaling through my nose, forcing myself to focus on my dick not getting hard.
Jesus Christ it feels good.
Her nails scrape lightly over my collarbone, a soft, barely there touch, but enough to send a sharp bolt of awareness straight down my spine. The tenderness of it—the care she won’t admit she’s giving—hits harder than her teasing did.
I stay quiet, watching as she works, the water sliding between us, steam wrapping our bodies in warmth.
I don’t think I’ve ever wanted someone like this.
Not just physically.
Emotionally too.
She’s quiet. Intentional. I feel her attentiveness in every slow stroke of her hands. Like she knows exactly what she’s doing to me but won’t let herself acknowledge it. At least not out loud.
Or. Maybe she’s waiting for me to crack first.
I give. “You always take your job this seriously?” I murmur, watching her lather up her palms again before smoothing them down my chest.
Her fingers hesitate for a second before resuming their path, gliding lower, enough to make my breath catch. “I thought you said you needed help. Suddenly it seems like you have an ulterior motive.”
“An ulterior motive.” I chuckle, leaning in, my voice dipping lower, brushing the shell of her ear. “Who, me?”
She laughs.
My hands twitch at my sides. I haven’t touched her once, but I want to.
Lucy doesn’t say anything for a moment, keeps lathering soap over my stomach, her eyes very pointedly avoiding mine.
“You’re quiet,” I note, watching her. “Something on your mind?”
She huffs out a laugh, betraying herself by sounding nervous. “God, you are so—”
She doesn’t finish.
I grip her waist, fingers pressing into her slick skin, and I swear to God, if she’s trying to drive me insane, she’s doing a damn good job.
I tilt my head, voice dipping lower. “Say it.”
Her eyes bounce to mine, something flickering in them that wasn’t there a second ago.
Worry.
“Annoying,” she whispers, pressing a kiss into my chest.
“Try again.” I force her to meet my gaze, and damn—she’s enjoying this power she has over me.
Her lips part, like she’s about to fire something back, something sharp and cutting, but then—
She thinks better of it. Changes the rules on me.
Her fingers slide lower, skimming the sharp dip of my hip bone, and I swear my entire body locks up.
“Oh,” she says, voice all fake innocence. “Were you expecting me to say something else?”
Fucking hell.
Of course I was expecting more. To play with her tits, perhaps?
My jaw clenches, my entire body wired with so much tension I could snap in half.
She knows it.
She thrives on it.
And when I think she’s about to put her hand on my cock—the way I’m wishing she would—she steps away. She reaches past me, twists the water off, and turns to face me, her expression unreadable. And then, without one single ounce of hesitation—
She steps out of the shower.
Naked.
Dripping wet.
Bare ass.
I drag a hand down my face, exhaling slowly, trying to shake the chaos in my head before stepping out of the shower. My towel is barely secure when I push open the bathroom door, scanning the hall for her.
I hear the soft shuffle of feet, the creak of her bed.
Bedroom.
My towel hits the floor somewhere between the bathroom and her bedroom, but I don’t even register it.
All I can think about is dick.
Mine.
Inside her.
I brace a hand against the doorframe, inhaling deep, willing some kind of rational thought back into my body.
It doesn’t work.
She’s leaning back against her pillows, sprawled out. “You lose something?”
My jaw tics. “You know damn well what I lost.”
Her eyes roam down my chest, to my cock. “You came chasing after me.”
“As if I wasn’t gonna? You’re fucking naked!”
Lucy laughs, tipping back her neck, water dripping onto her bedding. She does not care. Shimmies forward on the bed, legs hanging off the edge . . .
I step up, pulling her forward, standing between her thighs. My hands trail up, slow, deliberate.
My grip tightens, and I drag her closer until our bodies are flush. Until the head of my dick is at the entrance of her heat. The scent of her shampoo, the fucking smug glint in her eye—I should make her beg me to fuck her. Should make her chase me . . .
But I’m desperate for her.
When she lifts a leg, wrapping it around my hip, I’m gone.
She smirks. “You love being teased.”
I nod in agreement. “You love pushing your luck.”
Her fingers trail up her stomach and over her own breasts. “What are you gonna do about it?”
“Fuck you.”
I don’t wait. Don’t hesitate.
Her gasp is swallowed by my mouth as I lean down to claim her, her back arching, hands gripping my shoulders. Her nails bite into my skin, dragging, demanding, pulling me in deeper.