the fuck is the showerhead?
Footsteps distract me from the hunt, and I whirl to see Armando swaggering toward me in silk pajama pants and nothing else. His semi-erect cock is outlined by the thin material, and warmth gathers between my legs.
“Good evening, mi cielito. How did you sleep?”
That lovely Spanish accent seduces the anger from my body, but I narrow my eyes and struggle to hold tight to the frustrations that have plagued me for the last hour. The fact he’s dressed for bed but didn’t spend the night sleeping with me is like an arrow through my heart.
“Where were you? I wake up and you’re gone.” I cross my arms, pressing my fists against my ribs.
Armando smirks as he approaches. My gaze inevitably travels down his chest and my resolve dissolves the closer he gets. His sculpted muscles are hypnotic. He stops inches from me and lifts my chin with a caress. His eyes lock with mine and his pupils dilate. “I did some work then slept in my… office.”
A wave of dizziness tips the floor under my feet and I grab his arms to catch myself. I must be hungry… or thirsty. I haven’t eaten since yesterday. At least he wasn’t with someone else. Where he was is still a mystery, since I searched every inch of this house.
But I right myself and wrestle my insecurities into submission. “Well, I was worried. Next time, sleep with me.”
He brushes his lips against mine. “As you wish.”
My tummy flutters. “Want to join me in the shower? I need to get ready for work.”
He reaches past me, his face close to mine, and turns the faucet. “Looks like we will need to make this one quick.”
Water pours from a four-foot square in the ceiling of the shower. Ah ha.
Armando tugs my shirt over my head and tosses it to the floor. I laugh and dodge his grabby hands, squirming from his grasp. We end up inside the stall. The hot water pours over me and I drop my head back, reveling in its luxury. Talk about extravagance and heaven.
Armando’s erection settles against my backside, distracting me from truly enjoying what I suspect will be the best shower of my life. His hard body and what he does with it are worth the sacrifice. With a moan, I whirl and claim his mouth in a passionate kiss. Nothing better than a quickie before work.
Showers will never be the same. The sight of Armando naked with water sluicing over his head and down his shoulders is a sight that is seared into my mind forever. His muscles glistening as they bunched and smoothed with each movement. The way he took charge and held me against the tile wall while he fucked me, rocked my world. The guy knows his way around a woman, and how to make her body sing to his tune.
From the passenger seat of his truck, I press my bare thighs together when my body heats all over again. He just fucked me, but I want him again.
He turns left onto the street where the club is located, and I imagine taking him downstairs.
“We have an hour before our shift starts,” I say. My mind agrees with my body and the words are out before I even think about it.
He glances at me and groans. “That sounds like an invitation.”
I tug the handle the second he pulls into a parking space and turns off the truck. Opening my door, I jump to the ground and pause to adjust my dark-brown corset, which is laced up the front. I’m wearing heels tonight. Wearing boots without stockings just makes me look like a Goth wannabe. “You need an awful lot of invitations,” I say.
My eyes are glued to his ass as he climbs from the driver’s seat. Yum. The way he leans his forearm on the top of the door panel and pins me with that smoldering gaze—I’m a puddle on the blacktop. “I don’t need permission, mi cielito. Your body calls out to me.”
I join him on the sidewalk. He places his hand on my lower back and leads me toward the back door. His palm is like a brand.
The night is early, and the club is practically empty. Only a few of the regulars are sitting around the bar. I cling to his arm as he leads me into the coat check and through the secret door to the dungeon. Near darkness surrounds us and my pulse hikes. Yes! To