Covering as much of my dick as possible with one hand, I practically run to the bathroom, ducking inside before quietly closing the door behind me. I lean back against the wood, closingmy eyes as I pull in a deep breath, trying to calm the race of blood pumping through my veins.
Thinking about Mariah waking up and discovering the way we slept had me equal parts terrified and aroused. I don't ever want her to feel uncomfortable around me. But then again, I can't deny that her reactions when I've accidentally behaved in a way I shouldn't haven't exactly seemed uncomfortable. If anything, Mariah has been eager. For my touch. For my mouth. Even in her sleep she was anything but uninterested in my body against hers.
And I’d be a liar if I said I wasn't imagining what would've happened if she woke up. If she would have been just as eager this morning in my bed as she was last night in the coat closet.
The hand still gripping my cock flexes, squeezing the hard line of it. I know it's wrong to think about her like this—especially when she's right on the other side of the door, asleep in my bed—but standing in the dark it's easy to let my mind run through what could have been.
I wouldn't have fucked her. I know there would be no coming back from that. I might not even have let her touch me. In some ways that could be even worse than fucking. But I would have touched her. Taken care of her. Shown her how good I can make her feel.
My hand is moving and I can't stop it. Can't push away the images of Mariah beneath me. Every inch of her body bared as I worship the perfection she presents.
It's so easy to imagine her hands in my hair—I already know how incredible that feels. The way they would pull tight as I buried my face between her thighs, tasting, licking, sucking. She would writhe beneath me, chasing down what I’m so fucking ready to give her. And when she comes, her thighs would clench against my ears and my name would be on her lips.
Titus.
I can almost hear it, and imagining her sweet voice tight with pleasure as she comes undone sends me over the edge, dick jerking in my grip as I come in sharp spurts that hit the tile at my feet.
Titus. I fucking love imagining her moaning my name.
Titus.
“Titus?” There’s a soft knock on the door just beside my head. “Is everything okay?”
Fuck. “Everything’s fine.” Can jacking off to thoughts of licking my pregnant private chef’s pussy be considered fine?
Probably not by anyone’s standards.
I flip on the light and curse myself at the mess I made across the floor Mariah obviously mopped last night while I was oblivious to anything besides what was happening on my computer screen.
I grab the towel I was so proud of putting in the hamper and drop it to the tile, using one foot to clean away my jizz as I wrap a fresh towel around my waist, tucking it into place because all my clothes are in the closet and I can’t just greet Mariah with my dick out.
Once the mess I made is handled, I put the dirty towel back in the hamper and fling open the door, coming face to face with a sleepy looking, but still smiling, Mariah.
Her eyes dip, widening more and more as they drift down my chest, skating across the puckered scars covering my right shoulder and bicep before coming to rest on my stomach. “You have abs.” The observation is breathy and soft.
I don’t know why I stand straighter, tightening my core just a little to accentuate the lines cutting down and across my middle. “It’s because you won’t make me another caramel cake.”
Mariah’s eyes jump to my face. “What is?”
My brain trips a little over her question. “The reason I have abs is because I haven’t had enough caramel cake.”
A flush blooms across her skin as she lifts her eyes to the ceiling. “I, umm…” Her gaze drops to my stomach again, the pink of her cheeks deepening as she quickly turns away. “Do you want some caramel cake?”
I rub one hand over my stomach, trying to quell thedisappointment of no longer having her look at me the way she was. “If you’re offering to make me one for breakfast?—”
Mariah peeks my way over one shoulder, taking in my body for long enough to soothe my discontent. “I made one last night while you were working.” She gives me a small smile. “I thought it might be a little reward for all your hard work.”
Having her in my bed was more than reward enough, but I keep that to myself. “You didn’t have to do that.” I look around my room and the office beyond it. “You didn’t have to clean up in here either.”
Mariah angles a brow at me. “Did you see what it looked like in here? I absolutely had to clean up.” She gives me a grin. “And it’s not like I don’t get anything out of it. I’ve noticed extra money seems to appear in my bank account every time I mop a floor or scrub a toilet.”
“That’s strange.” It’s also strange that I got off not even five minutes ago and my dick is already trying to join the conversation. Like the sight of Mariah in my room is all it takes to get me hard, regardless of the circumstances.
Actually, that’s probably accurate.
Mariah gifts me with a smile so bright I swear it illuminates my whole fucking life. “Sure it is.” She takes a step away from me and I can feel the distance. “Why don’t you cover up all that ridiculousness while I make breakfast?”
“I thought I got to eat cake for breakfast?”
