Текст книги "Rug Burns"
Автор книги: Cory Cyr
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Текущая страница: 6 (всего у книги 11 страниц)
I knew Haven’s pregnancy meant change. We’d talked about it, but honestly, I did my best to push those thoughts from my mind. When she moved back to Colorado after her breakup with Jared, that was the worst. I knew it was in her best interests, so I supported it. Now I had to do it again. Only this time, it would be permanent. She could never come back.
She had no intentions of revealing the baby to Latch. With him out of the picture as the father, I knew she had to go. He had the means to make her life miserable, and he’d put her through enough. I knew Keenan had given him an ultimatum along with a major beating. Gotta love those British knights in shining armor. It would be easier to keep Haven’s secret if she left. I’d spoken to Keenan several times on the phone and told him our future dating (ugh!) would have to be put on pause so I could spend time with her. He understood since no one knew better what she’d endured.
We left two weeks later. I drove her back home, hung out, then flew back. I had houses that needed showing and others ready to put up for sale. I was sad though, lonely. We’d been apart before, but I knew this time was different. I planned to fly out when the baby was due, then every other month to visit. I hated not having my bestie here. Our home was an echoing cavern without her.
I did spend time with Keenan. And I did allow him to take me to several events as his date. The older woman. Our affair was now being compared to Latch and Haven’s. The difference was we weren’t having an affair; we were building a friendship.
I liked him. I’d never had a male friend before. He was clever, overdramatic, and indulged in excessively drinking tea. He was British. What could I say?
During the next month, he went to New York several times to do promotional work for Blood Vestige. I found out he was no longer doing runway shows. Evidently, because he was about to turn thirty, he was no longer in high demand. The newer models were at least ten to fifteen years younger. It didn’t appear to bother him. He still did dozens of print ads, and he was the entity of Jake Coy. As long as Latch kept creating newer versions of Blood Vestige, Jake would live forever. The royalties from Blood Vestige alone made Keenan Stone a multimillionaire. Money didn’t matter to me, probably because I was already wealthy, and it appeared irrelevant to him.
The paparazzi drove me crazy. Fucking pissed me off. Every time Blood Vestige was mentioned, so were Keenan and me. We were now a package item. Those asshats even came up with a name for us: Kiwi. Men with cameras lurked outside my home and work, making it extremely hard to do my job. Many of my clients valued their privacy, so being stalked daily by the paps sucked. There were times I thought I should just retire, because working—it was something I did for fun. If I were honest, I did it to pass the time. Haven had moved away, and Keenan was traveling. Yeah, after a few months, he was growing on me like a rash.
Haven was due any day now, so I decided to go spend time with her. I hadn’t heard from her in a while, so I wanted to let her know I was coming. But I never got the chance because of the Skype call. I mean, seriously. I thought I was hallucinating. There was Latch McKay sitting next to her, looking deliciously perfect. There was something in his face I’d never seen before. A clarity. He was clean and sober, and he loved my girl. Haven rambled on about how he just showed up, not knowing she was pregnant. Then Latch spoke about rehab and writing his journals. She had really moved on. He was with her now. He would be there to support her at the birth. And he should. He was the father.
“Oh, Weezie, how are you and Keenan doing?” Haven asked as Latch smirked next to her.
“How? What? Umm…”
“You do know we get the rag mags even in this small town. What are the paps calling you two now? Oh yeah, Kiwi?” Latch said, laughing.
“Well, don’t believe everything you read. It’s not what you think. And by the way, Latch, your bro sucks, and not in a puff chore way. It’s like dating Mother Teresa in drag,” I replied as I rolled my eyes.
“Hey, don’t blame me. I tried to show him the way many times.” He snorted. “He must really like you, for reasons I have yet to fathom.” He laughed.
“Blow me, McKay.”
Latch and Haven laughed. It was friendly banter, but I was still troubled. He had hurt her both emotionally and physically. For now, he looked sober, and I prayed his rehab stuck. I’d read too many instances of the rich and famous falling off the wagon. I didn’t want my bestie and her baby to be a casualty. Still, I was optimistic he was there for the long haul.
Keenan had known about this. He was Latch’s best friend, like brothers. He had deliberately kept all of this from me. When he returned from the East Coast a few days later, I was miffed. True, I’d spent the last few days building up my anger. Not only about finding out Latch and Haven had gotten back together, but also everything else. I was sexually deprived. Basically starving for affection. Fuck my life.
He came over that night. He knew I was pissed. The British were nothing if not astute.
“You blatantly kept everything from me,” I said as I pierced him with a cold look.
“It wasn’t my tale to tell, and by the by, you didn’t say a word to me about a baby either.”
“That’s totally different. It was for safety reasons, and you know it. I wasn’t going to announce Haven was carrying Latch’s child after he just assaulted her.” My voice had definitely gotten louder. Oh shit. This was our first fight. Fuck me. We were a couple.
Keenan grabbed me gently by the elbow. “He would never hurt her.” He spoke softly as he swept his hand through his pale hair. “Latch has changed; he’s a much different man now. They belong together. You could have trusted me. I would have kept your secret, you know.”
God, he was beautiful. His eyes softened as he spoke to me, melting every part of my body. If he didn’t stop, I’d be a puddle on my floor. “It doesn’t matter now. They’re together. All I care about is Haven’s happiness and if he’s really changed. I will kill him, you know, if he hurts her again. There will be no place he can hide.”
“I know, Weezie. You are a potent force. Now say you forgive me.”
He was very close. I could feel his breath on my skin as he spoke, warm and inviting. My entire body prickled with excitement; my heart fluttered in anticipation. I had no doubt I could forgive this man for anything. He made my body come alive with sensations I’d never felt. He made me want things I’d never considered. He scared the shit out of me emotionally. In that area, I considered myself barren. I’d built the walls so high no one could get over them, but he could.
Keenan placed one of his hands on each side of my face and bent his head low. Our eyes locked in what became a defining moment. His lips brushed mine ever so softly, his teeth gently nipping my bottom lip. Then his tongue teased the corners of my mouth as he pushed forward. I wanted to be in control of this kiss. But he’d caught me off guard, and now our tongues embraced in a duel for ownership. I heard moans from both of us as he drew me into his chest. My breasts crushed into him as we embraced. The way he kissed was refined yet possessive. My body became alive as he held me tighter. All my senses became aware as my core became aroused, and I wanted nothing more than to take this to the next level.
But he wasn’t excited, not really. I felt something, but nothing to inspire me. He could kiss me like this, and I gave him zero, zip in the pants department. Seriously. What. The. Fuck? I pulled away and stood back. I felt drunk with need, but I needed to grab my bearings.
“What the hell was that?” I asked as I studied his face.
“I’m sure they call it the same in America. I kissed you. Has it been so long that you’ve forgotten what a kiss is?” he asked, his voice filled with levity.
“I know what a kiss is—ass. What I don’t understand is why you bothered. I obviously don’t stir your emotions.”
He looked startled as well as confused. “What the hell are you talking about? Are you having a laugh at my expense? I kissed you because I want you, Weezie—very much.
“I think our definition of want must be different. When you kissed me, I got wet. You got nothing. I mean really, Keenan. You had me lip-locked in a tight squeeze, so unless you’re hiding a Vienna sausage in your pants, you weren’t excited. I felt you, and there was nothing.”
For a moment, he appeared embarrassed. Then he began chuckling under his breath. The bastard was actually laughing at me.
“You think because I had no erection, I didn’t get excited? I spent years training my body not to grow aroused by certain stimuli. Remember all those half-naked print ads and book covers? When I was younger, I got a hard-on every time I stood next to a girl. It was awkward and embarrassing. I have major issues with my size. It’s not what you think. I’m not boasting. I’m just stating the facts. I’ve spent so much time programming my body not to respond; it’s become second nature to me. I’m so sorry you took it as me not desiring you. You have no idea what you do to me.”
Wait. What? He was toting a kielbasa in his pants? How had I not heard about this? If it were true, it should have been documented on Google. What he said did make sense. I mean, who wants a male model getting a boner every time they’re photographed? Well, besides me. I’d buy the poster.
“Were you truthfully aroused? Tell me.”
He lowered his head until his lips met the shell of my ear. “I want to bury my cock so deep inside you they’ll need an excavation team to find it. I need you to understand with clarity that I am not immune to your charisma. The waiting is tough, but it will be worth it when we consummate our relationship. I know you have special attributes, and the truth is so do I. Our pairing should be quite explosive.”
Fuck me. I was holding my breath. My heart beat in unison with my pussy. The floodgates were open and it was Niagara Falls. My skin felt stretched and heat flushed through me everywhere. My nipples tightened as my pupils dilated. I had always pooh-poohed sex talk and phone sex, but I was positive I almost choked on my tongue. My brain was a jumbled-up mess. The only words that stood out like a neon sign were cock and deep—oh, and maybe excavation. I’d never had much need for battery-operated dildos, but at this point, it was either that or picking up some random man. I’d been monogamous for a while now. The longest since I was a virgin.
“Do you masturbate?” I swear the question just fell out of my mouth.
Keenan didn’t look shocked or uncomfortable. “Normally, no. But because of you, lately, many times. If I didn’t, I would break my promise and bend you over your front railing before I really get to know you. I’m attempting something different with you, Weezie, but you can be a compelling reason to fall off the wagon.”
Wow. This blond god beat off to me. I wondered what he thought about while he stroked himself.
“Turnabout is fair play, Weezie. Do you dabble?” he asked in such a breathy whisper it made me shudder.
“Does going over your pussy with the buff puff more than twice count?”
He chuckled. “I’m not familiar with a buff puff, but I do love it when you say pussy. Do you come?”
I hardly ever got embarrassed, but for some reason, what he asked made my cheeks burn. “Umm… no.”
“You sound unsure. Never mind. Rest assured, when I make you come, there will be no doubts. Don’t climax without me. Wait for me. I want to be the one that stirs every emotion and makes your body surrender.”
“Jesus, Keenan, stop. This is too much. Can’t we just fuck and get better acquainted after?”
“I don’t think it works that way. Be patient, and I promise you will not be disappointed.”
From head to toe I was aroused. I squeezed my thighs together because my core was drenched and I could feel it leaking down my legs.
“This is why I’m attracted to you. You say whatever you fancy. It’s an admirable trait, Weezie.”
“I think I may need more than words to keep me sated.”
With that, he kissed me again. Deeply and with intense purpose. My hands skimmed the slight swell of his length. My entire body was vibrating. He had no idea how our first time would be explosive; truer words were never spoken. But the need to have physical contact with someone was overwhelming. My mind went back and forth considering the idea of monogamy. I wasn’t built for one man. Just as Keenan had his nature, I had mine.
“You need to do what you have to do, Weezie,” he said as though he just read my thoughts. He was giving me permission to stray. “I want you to be content, and I know what I’m offering currently isn’t going to pacify you. Please, do what you must, but can we set a few guidelines?”
Okay, Keenan was giving me permission to fuck someone else. Who was this man and why hadn’t he been cloned? “Guidelines?” I asked.
“I don’t expect you to change who you are. Am I happy telling you to go have relations with another man? No. It kills me inside, honestly, but if I’m unable to give you what you need, then I suppose you’ll need to secure it elsewhere. But I do have a couple stipulations. Please do not have sex—intercourse—and I recommend we both get a clean bill of health prior to us having relations. I have always used a condom, but with you, I wish to forgo it. I can’t get you pregnant. Can you do those two things?”
“Of course, but honestly, you could get me pregnant. I may be old, but I’m not that old. I still have a period, which is why I’ve always used protection.”
He shook his head as he faced me. “I’m sterile. You and Latch are the only two people in the world privy to that information.”
What he said took me by surprise. “Is that why you chose me? You thought I was in an age bracket that wouldn’t want children?”
He gave me a sobering glance. “Really, why must you think I have some ulterior motive? Can’t I just be riveted by your intellectual conversation and your stellar personality?” He spit out satirically.
“Asshole. That is, I believe, the same term they use in England, isn’t it?” I quipped as I crossed my arms.
“I’m trying to be open and honest with you. Do what you must, but don’t allow another man inside you. Promise me that, and truly, I don’t need to know about anything else.” His voice was beginning to sound tired.
I had no idea what to say to that or how I felt about being with someone else. I was kind of enamored by this man. But I was consumed by needing something physical. I felt like a drug addict. I needed a fix. If Keenan was going to make me wait, I had to do something to get by. I never had to take care of myself in that department. He didn’t realize the risk he was taking by giving me carte blanche. I missed sucking cock. But the truth was I wanted to suck his cock.
I wondered how long it had been for him, and I was still curious why he chose me. I was nothing special, unless you’d been a recipient of one of my puff chores. Did he give me permission because he planned to be with other women? I hadn’t thought about that. Jealousy rushed through my veins like fire. No, he wouldn’t do that. He was much too honest and cultured. He was testing me. Fuck. All bets were off. I might have gotten high SAT scores, but on this exam, I was going to fail—miserably.
I found going back to my old lifestyle more than unsettling. Keenan and I continued to date and talk on the phone. It wasn’t unusual to get two or three text messages a day, more if he was out of the country. He’d gone back to England twice, but I’d chosen not to go because having him in such close proximity would make me want him more.
I’d been with two other men since Keenan had given me the go-ahead—with perimeters. Each time, I pretended he was the man. I fantasized it was his cock filling my mouth and his release I was swallowing. It was beginning to piss me off. I’d decided the only way to rid myself of wanting him was to fuck him. Once we had each other, I fully intended to cut him loose. In the time we’d been together, I’d gotten seven French kisses, countless pecks on the head, three accidental breast-to-chests feels, one not-so-accidental brushing of my hand across his crotch, and a dizzying array of dinners, concerts, and plays. I was sexually frustrated even though I had men I could go to. Keenan had somehow burrowed himself under my skin. The fucking scabie.
My day wasn’t complete unless we spoke. He never wanted to talk about his day, just mine. He was interested in every aspect of my job. He sent me flowers and bought me greeting cards. He pleasured me in every corner of my life except one. He had to give me his body, or I had to walk away. I craved that intimacy with him. I’d never desired it from any other man, and now the only one I wanted kept me at bay.
During one nightly phone call, I planned to say good-bye. I couldn’t take it anymore. I was discontented. The waiting and the sexual frustration was killing me. I had to let him go for my own sanity.
“How was your day? I missed you. I’m glad to be back. It was a tedious flight.”
“Kee, we need to talk.”
I heard him chuckle. “I thought we were talking.”
“I can’t do this anymore,” I said, trying to clear my throat as I choked on my words. “I feel like I’m your buddy now that Latch and Haven are married with a kid. Ever since they moved away, this—what we have feels different. If we’re just friends, then say it and let’s be done pretending this is going to ever be anything more.”
I heard him take a deep breath, then exhale. “Given this a lot of thought, have you? Can I come over tomorrow night and cook you dinner?”
I paused, not sure what to say. Maybe we should discuss face to face. “You cook?” I asked.
“Who do you think taught Latch his gourmet skills?”
I wish Latch had taught you all his skills. Then we wouldn’t need this chat. “I suppose. Yeah, that’s all right.”
“Good, and maybe you can introduce me to your Star Trek collection. I have yet to discover the reason for your fascination, and I’ve seen the movies.”
“Good God, you can’t compare those new movies to the quality and intrigue of the original. I have the entire series on Blu-ray, and it’s been beautifully remastered.”
“It’s nice to hear you get so excited, Weezie.”
“Yes, it will be the highlight of my day to introduce you to Captain Kirk and Mr. Spock,” I replied, hoping he didn’t recognize the bitterness in my tone.
Tomorrow night would be the last time I saw him. We’d always be friends, but I could no longer sexually pursue him. It was too exasperating. It had been too long. I was tired, too old for this. I couldn’t believe I was even thinking these thoughts, but I needed more. He did this to me. He made me feel things. He made me needy. I’d never been desperate. I didn’t like who I was anymore.
Not seeing him or talking to him every day would be difficult. But I’d broken harder habits. And Keenan was an addiction I needed to kick.
*****
He showed up promptly at seven the next evening. This was my good-bye to him, so I dressed accordingly. Tiny white jean shorts, a floral peasant blouse, and no shoes. I had decided to forgo makeup and banded my hair in a high ponytail. He looked edible as usual. Damn him. Loose-fitting jeans and a dark-green polo. His blond hair was messy, as if he’d just woken up, and he hadn’t shaved in a few days. Keenan was definitely making it hard to walk away.
He’d brought fresh salmon to grill along with potatoes and salad. I even found a bottle of Pinot Noir in the bag. I wondered if he realized I was adamant in my decision. I peeked out the glass door and watched him working at the grill. For an Englishman, he was handy with that spatula.
“I can’t believe how American you seem with that grill,” I mused as I began to set the table outdoors. The sun had almost set and the sky was colored with yellow and orange hues. I’m sure some of that was from Los Angeles smog; regardless, it made my view more spectacular than ever.
“I wanted to cook a special meal for you. I’d do anything for you, love.”
Love. He called me love. He’s never called me that before. “So what’s the ETA on the food, chef?” I asked as I began to uncork the wine.
“Thirty minutes, give or take. I’ve wrapped the potatoes in foil and pitched them in with the fish. You can toss the greens if you want. Then we can sit out here, drink some wine, and look at the gorgeous view… and maybe check out the landscape too.”
I blushed. Fuck, what was wrong with me? No matter how I saw myself, in his eyes, I was beautiful. I would never be able to explain why a man who could truly have any woman on his arm settled for me. But then maybe he hadn’t. Maybe this was how he treated his friends. If it was, I could see why Latch stuck around.
I chuckled.
“What’s so funny?” he asked as he pulled down the lid of the grill.
“Nothing really. Just thinking,” I replied as I handed him a glass of wine.
“That’s never a good sign,” he mused. “You’re my friend, you know. No matter what we become, you and I will always have this friendship. Do you understand?” he asked as he sipped.
“I get it. No worries.” So we really were buddies. I wasted all this time on him. When did he change his mind? Was it when he knew I was going to be with other men? Or maybe he’d met someone. I couldn’t believe I fell for his bullshit. American, British, Scottish, they were all assholes.
“FML,” I blurted out as I slammed my goblet down on the table.
“What is it, love? What’s wrong, and why is your life fucked?”
So he knew what FML meant. Well, bully for him. Maybe I should point out he was the one responsible for fucking my life.
“It doesn’t matter, Kee. Never mind. Let’s just have a nice meal and watch some Star Trek. Can we just do that, please?”
He looked perplexed and uncomfortable. He nodded but restrained himself from any reply.
Our dinner was quiet. We had small talk and quiet talk and then no talk. All I could hear were birds chirping and flies buzzing. Even the canyon heeded my words about being silent.
I knew he was dying to ask me what was bothering me. His brow was tense, and I could see a constant ticking in his cheek between bites. No words were exchanged, and the silence was deafening.
I picked at my salmon, taking a bite here and there. It too was deliciously somber.
I anticipated our future conversation, and it made me feel queasy. I hated confrontation. In that aspect, Haven and I were alike. I wished I’d Skyped her before this date. I hated that she was living almost six thousand miles away. Even if we had spoken, I wouldn’t know how to explain this. And Latch would find out. He was now her life, as it should have been.
Insecurity was an ugly emotion. One I’d rarely felt—until Keenan. He made me feel the full compass. The good and the bad. The welcome and the things I wished would disappear. If I let him go, would those feelings go with him? Would I quit having this need, want, and hunger?
After we finished, we loaded the dishwasher. I poured another glass of wine. Especially since I found he had another bottle in his trunk. Once the dishes were done and outside was cleaned up, we settled in to watch some of my favorite episodes of Star Trek. Keenan and I took our places on the sofa in front of my sixty-five-inch screen. I’d set the player to show three of my favorites. I figured a few hours of deep space and another three glasses of wine and I’d be prepared to say farewell.
Something felt off. I couldn’t actually put my finger on it, but he was acting different. I’d never seen him restless, even a tiny bit. Watching him, I realized he was nervous. Maybe he’d already planned to break it off with me. Just the thought of that left a hollow feeling in my belly. That didn’t make any sense considering I’d been the one to bring it up last night. I leaned back into the sofa as I stretched out my legs on the coffee table. Keenan was stiff as a board and hardly seemed at ease.
I grabbed the remote control and hit pause. “Out with it, Kee. You’re so uptight I can feel it over here. Spit it out.”
He rubbed his hands together in contemplation. “I just have things on my mind; that’s all. This probably isn’t the right time.”
Oh fuck, he was leaving me. He decided to end it before I did. I hoped we could still have some kind of relationship. Of course we could still be friends since obviously that’s all we ever were. A few deep kisses and some stray touching didn’t mean he had any intentions of this moving forward. He was just lonely.
That just sounded absurd even in my own head.
Keenan was world famous and he had hundreds of friends. How could he feel alone? He was always busy, always out of town. His calendar was packed.
In truth, I felt the isolation too. I could go visit Haven whenever I wanted. Latch had made his jet available to her parents and me. But it wasn’t the same. She’d moved on. She’d gotten her deepest wish. I didn’t even know what I wanted. I was over forty, and I had no aspirations past my next real estate deal and blowjob. Those two things defined me.
Our eyes met as he raked me with a gaze. I felt the void in my belly turn into a knot. His hand brushed away a stray hair from my face. His touch stole all my breath as I felt my body stir. This man had the ability to ruin me. He could hurt me. He could crush my entire being.
“Do you like your blouse?” he asked in a quiet voice.
I was confused. My blouse? He wanted to talk about my shirt? “Umm… yes, I love this blouse. Haven sent it from Scotland.”
His eyes went half lidded as he looked at me while licking his lips. The gesture his mouth currently made sent intense heat throughout my body. My inner thighs became slick.
“Remove it for me, please.” His voice wasn’t loud, but it came across as a command, not a request.
I just sat there. Frozen. I’d never been one to hold back when it came to sexuality. However, in this moment, my brain was on pause along with the television. My heart hammered, and I wondered if he was doing this because he knew I wanted to walk away. Tonight was for me, not him. I’d given him no other choice, and he knew if he didn’t comply, I was done.
“You don’t have to do this—not for me. I’ve never had to beg or plead for a man—well, at least not prior to sex,” I joked, hoping to lighten the mood.
Keenan pushed himself off the sofa and stood above me. “Weezie, I am hanging on by a thread here. I swear to God, I’m not sure how much more I can take. Now, I will ask you one more fucking time. Do. You. Like. That. Blouse?” he said very slowly, enunciating every word.
Was it hot in here? Because I swear my pussy almost burst into flames when he said the word fucking.
“If you have designs on keeping that particular piece of clothing intact, then remove it. Otherwise, I won’t be held responsible for the damage I might incur.”
My eyes snapped wide, and for a brief moment, I felt shy. I’d been waiting for months, and now I felt inhibited. Maybe I’d built it up too much in my head. What if he was turned off by my body? Sure, I liked it, but he was used to skinny, young models. What if we weren’t compatible in bed? All these months wasted. The anticipation and the buildup could never compete with the scenario I’d fabricated.
I slowly and somewhat reluctantly began to loosen the ribbons on the front of my peasant blouse. Because the blouse was so wide at the top, I’d worn a strapless pink demi bra. My nipples had become pebbled, and the friction rubbed unmercifully against the lace cups. Once it was loose enough, I paused with it against my chest before it fluttered to the floor. I heard Keenan bite back a groan. The sound vibrated deep within my sex.
“Jesus, Weezie, you are as stunning as I expected,” he murmured as he stepped closer.
His hand brushed my exposed breasts. He reached into one of the cups and gently began to knead my nipple. I sucked in a deep breath as I lowered my eyes. There was no mistaking his arousal. His length looked long and heavy. My pussy began to pulsate with need. I reached my hand down to stroke him through his pants.
“No, I want tonight to be all about you. You’ve waited patiently—well, somewhat patiently.” He chuckled softly, taking away my hand. “I want to pleasure you tonight—all night.”
“What about you? I’ve anticipated this moment, and I’m eager to taste you,” I said so quietly I almost couldn’t hear myself.
His face showed signs of discomfort. “And I want that, but later. Rest assured, I want to experience your puff chore.” He choked on a snort.
“Oh, you know about puff chore?”
“How could I not? Latch told me everything. Well, he used to before he became a married man.”
“Can I at least touch you?” It appeared I wasn’t quite above begging.
He grasped my hand and this time let me trace the outline of his cock. He was huge. Men always boasted about the size of their cocks. I’m surprised most didn’t carry a tape measure. Keenan had mentioned his rather sizeable attribute, and he hadn’t exaggerated. I’d heard men brag many times and always been disappointed. I was currently thinking I might have found a cock I couldn’t deep throat. Regardless, I was eager to test out that theory.
“So utterly breathtaking.” Keenan’s lips rested on the expanse of my neck as he began to lick across my collarbone. He was going to drive me to madness at this rate. My body was pleading for more. His hand reached around and unhooked my bra. I saw it fall to the floor and land on my blouse. My normal instinct was to cover my breasts, which was difficult considering their size.
“Don’t. Not from me. I want to envelop every part of you. I want to visually ravish every detail and savor every moment,” he whispered as his body crushed into mine.
I struggled with the bottom of his shirt. He took a step back and pulled it over his head. I swear my mouth began to water. Never had I wanted to devour a man more in my life. I’d seen his body on billboards, print ads, and on the internet. But nothing compared to the real thing. For a moment, I forgot I was topless and reached out to graze his chest. He was too perfect to be real. Smooth and lightly tanned, he was a sculpture in motion. His body was decadent. The six-pack he displayed was defined by a narrow waist and enunciated by a chiseled V. His arms were thicker than I expected and dense with muscle. He was a magnificent specimen of a man. The perfect combination of every woman’s wet dream. I must have done something good in a past life if he was my prize.
