like it.” I gesture toward the entertainment center that has an obscenely large array of VHSs, DVDs, Blu-Rays, and beyond. “And you know my code for my digital collection,” I remind her.
She nods once more and begins twirling her fork in her spaghetti, and I make my way upstairs.
Chapter 3
Doc
I flip on the light to my bathroom, looking around and seeing it’s pristine, just like the rest of the house. And just knowing she was in here—since there’s a fresh towel hanging on the warmer and my toothbrush is back in the holder, when I left it out on purpose just to have the evidence of her presence—makes my cock swell even more than it was from the brief kiss I placed to her forehead moments before.
And now that she’s agreed to actually spend a couple of hours with me, even if it is just to watch a movie downstairs, I know I need to take care of the fucker straining against the front of my navy blue pants. Otherwise, I don’t know how much control I’ll have over myself with her sitting nearby.
I toe off my shoes and shed my clothes, tossing them into the hamper, and then walk naked across the expanse of cool tile made to look like planks of weathered gray wood. There is no door to my shower, just an opening in the wall of perfectly clear glass, and I step inside to turn on the water. Even the short moment of cold before it turns warm does nothing to calm the ache of my cock as it juts out from my body. I turn the two knobs, making the water come out like a rain shower from above, another stream coming out aimed at the center of my abs so when I face away, it’s a jet that massages the muscles of my back. When I rinse, there’s another knob I can twist that turns the rain shower into a waterfall that cascades the soap from my large frame in seconds. But I’m not worried about actually getting clean at the moment. My thoughts are centered on the blonde-haired goddess a floor beneath my very feet as I close my eyes and take my cock in my hand and give it a few strokes.
No, no. This isn’t right. The feeling isn’t right. She’d be tighter. She’d be slicker. I reach beside me and squeeze out a little lube into my palm. After living with the woman of my dreams for a year, unable to give in to my desires, I’d taken two bottles of lube from my club’s stockpile—one for my shower and one for my nightstand drawer—because Astrid has turned me into a teenage boy who needs to jack off daily.
I groan when I stroke again, the feeling closer but still not exactly right. Not that I’d know what her sweet pussy feels like. But I can imagine. She’s so tiny compared to me. She might not have danced in ages, but she still has the petite figure of a ballerina, all long, slim lines and gentle curves. Her breasts are larger than the dancers’ I’d seen at the Nutcracker, but the rest of her? Pure elegance.
No, I don’t know what her pussy feels like, but I do know what it feels like to hold her flush against me and take her in a kiss that’s savage with hunger. It was only once, and it was a whole year ago, but my fucking God it had been the kiss to end all kisses. She had whimpered into my mouth, gasped as I thrust my tongue into her sweet mouth, and had gone completely lax in my arms, giving in to the both of us.
My hand pumps faster, replaying that kiss over and over in my mind. It was in a bathroom much different than this one, a small outdated but clean one in a two-bedroom apartment Astrid and her sister rented on the other side of town. It was all they could afford on their savings, Twyla’s meager earnings at the sex shop, and Astrid’s own income from her online makeup business, when they landed in my town after running from her ex on the opposite side of the country.
When the kiss happened, Astrid was already staying with me—had hid here in my home over the weekend—so she wouldn’t have to be alone while one of my men, Seth, took her sister to my beach house. And it was a good thing too,