Hoax Husband - Candice M. Wright Page 0,30
slides them over my hips and down my thighs. Bending, he kneels, helping me step out of them, and all the while, his eyes continue to blaze into mine.
Lifting my hands without thought, I run my fingers through his hair, scratching his scalp with my nails, eliciting a moan from him before he quickly stands up and chastises me as my hands fall away.
“I’m trying to be a good man here, Skittle, but I’m no fucking saint. I can’t think clearly when you touch me.”
His words make my skin tingle, a sense of power washing over me along with the knowledge that I have as much control here as he does, if not more. I’m willing to bet if I push him, he’ll crack.
Asher reaches behind me and snags the body wash, squeezing a generous amount into his palm before lathering his palms together. Starting at my shoulders, he runs his hands down my arms and around to my back, trailing his fingertips over my ribs as he slowly makes his way to my hips. After applying a little more soap, he slides his large hands over one leg then the other, coming dangerously close to the apex of my thighs but never crossing the line. Standing back up, he slowly cups my breasts but doesn’t linger before rinsing all the suds away.
“Time to get out, gorgeous.” His gravelly voice sounds a touch deeper than usual.
“What about you?” I ask, indicating his boxer shorts, but he shakes his head.
“I underestimated the effect your naked body would have on mine, and I really overestimated my control. Right now, these boxers are the only thing keeping my cock out of your sweet pussy.”
“Holy crap,” I whisper
“Yeah, that about sums it up.” He smirks, leaning over to shut off the water before stepping out and grabbing a large fluffy white towel from the heated towel rail.
He holds the towel open for me, so I step out in somewhat of a daze, letting him wrap it securely around me before he grabs a second towel for himself.
I would love to be able to say I offered him the same respect he showed me, keeping my eyes firmly on his despite the temptation, but mine are drawn to his cock like it's fitted with a homing beacon.
With no shame, he shucks his boxers to the floor where they hit the tile with a loud slap. They could have hit the floor and exploded into flames and I still wouldn’t have been able to tear my eyes away from Asher's very big, very hard cock that stands loud and proud before he covers it with a towel.
“Should I feel objectified?” he asks with amusement in his voice, making me look up as I feel my face heat.
“Well, I’m your wife, right? If anyone gets to look, it’s me,” I sass, making a grin stretch across his face.
“I can’t argue with that, Skittle. Come on, let's go and get you some ice and you can tell me everything that happened. And then…” His voice trails off as he steps forward, his body once more flush with mine.
“And then?” I ask breathlessly, as I try and fail to pretend I’m unaffected.
“And then I’m taking my wife to bed.”
Oh boy.
Seventeen
Linda
Sitting at the kitchen island, wearing nothing more than my underwear and one of Asher’s shirts, I relax with a glass of wine as Asher hangs up the phone. The heat between us is still present, but it’s now more of a low simmer than the flames that licked my skin earlier.
“That was a friend of mine down at the station. He says we can go tomorrow and file a report, but it's more a formality than anything else. The chances of finding your bag or the person who took it are slim.”
“I figured as much. I went online like you said and canceled my bank cards and stuff. Not really much else I can do.” I shrug and take a sip of my wine.
Luckily there wasn’t anything in there that couldn’t be replaced. I’m more pissed about losing my sketch pad than anything.
He sits in front of me in nothing more than a pair of low slung gray lounge pants and lifts my legs onto one of his thighs, his large hand resting over my calves. I still can’t get over how tactile he is with me. A thousand little touches that might go unnoticed to some light up my body like the fourth of July, and I don’t