the bra she wore to the shop, there hadn’t been much that was covered.
My feet finally come unstuck, and I head toward the bathroom, moving faster than before.
Arlo’s topless.
Topless.
Putting a few pumps of soap into the bowl, I add warm water and grab the soap dispenser and a washcloth and towel from the shelf next to the shower.
I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror, wondering who the person is staring back at me. I’ve never hauled ass for a shot at seeing breasts. I don’t even go to strip clubs with my friends because I can get the real thing in person without spending a ton of cash, and with an orgasm at the end.
By the time I make it back to the living room, Arlo’s on her back, arm over her breasts, cupping one in her hand. “Is this okay?” she asks, looking up at me with such innocence.
“If you’re comfortable, I’m okay with it,” I tell her, sitting next to her hip on the couch.
“Nudity doesn’t bother me,” she says softly, staring at me with those green eyes that call to me.
“Clearly you’re not shy.”
“Modeling made it impossible for me to be shy or worried about someone seeing my body. When you have to get naked in a room filled with twenty people, you get used to being comfortable in your own skin really fast.”
My stomach knots at the thought of all those people looking at her, seeing the beauty I see lying before me. “I wouldn’t like that.”
“Really? You seem really comfortable in your skin too.”
“No, babe. I wouldn’t like other men looking at your naked body—or women, for that matter.”
Arlo smiles, blinking slowly. “That’s kind of sweet, but that was my life when I was younger.”
“I don’t think I could deal.”
“It’s one of the reasons why I didn’t date much. Men were only after me for my body, having seen the photos online, or they were in the industry. I wanted to find someone who loved me for me before I gave them all of me.”
“Makes sense. Sit up, baby,” I tell her, holding the towel. “I don’t want to ruin your couch.”
She does so without question as I fold the towel in half, placing it between her back and the couch. This is going to be messy, and I plan on taking my time when doing it too.
“Be right back. I need to wash my hands, or else it’s all for nothing.”
She nods, her eyes following me as I walk back into the kitchen like my ass is on fire. I make quick work of washing my hands, careful to clean them thoroughly before I dare get near her ink.
I take a few deep breaths, have a short but important conversation with my dick about the importance of the fucker behaving while I’m so close to her. The last thing I need is a boner, especially when I have Arlo being sweet and opening up to me.
“Do not ruin this for me,” I tell my dick as I scrub my hands together, cleaning between each finger. “I’ll make you pay.”
“What?” Arlo says from the couch.
“Nothing. Just talking to myself.”
“Everything okay?”
“Great,” I lie, drying my hands with some paper towels.
I walk back slower, concentrating on my breathing. Why in the hell did I do this to myself? She could’ve just as easily cleaned it herself. But no. My dumb ass had to offer my own hands, sliding them over her ribs near her breasts. Fucking moron.
Arlo hasn’t moved. Her hand and arm still cover her breasts, with her stomach and ribs exposed. “Is this okay? Should I lie different?”
“No. You’re perfect. Just relax and I’ll be gentle.”
“I know you will,” she whispers, staring up at me with nothing but trust in those green eyes.
I dip my fingers in the water and hold my hand above her ribs, letting the drops fall onto her battered skin. She stirs when they land on her flesh, but she quickly stills. Her eyes never leave me, always watching as I grab the soap, pumping a few drops on my hands.
She bites down on her lip, unsure of what I’m going to do.
I touch her softly, barely letting the tips of my fingers graze over her flesh.
She sighs and closes her eyes. “That feels so good.”
“I can do this as long as you want,” I tell her, hating myself for it, too.
I’m fucking cock-teasing myself. What in the hell has gotten into me? I’ve never been this tender, sweet