Her head tilts as her hand comes to rest on my chest. “Sometimes you sayfuck, but others you sayfeck. Why is that?”
If I thought she was going to push me for more clarification about Vanessa, apparently I was dead wrong.
I bark a laugh, shaking my head. “I’ve lived here more years than I lived there. I more than likely would have lost my accent years ago, but most of the men have a thicker brogue than I do. I think that helps me keep it.”
“Huh.” She pats my chest, steps around me, and heads for the shower. “I’d take your boxer briefs off if you’re getting in.”
The creases that form under her ass cheeks are so damn sexy that my dick weeps.
Fecking Christ.
This woman is going to be the death of me.
Having Charlotte’s nude, wet body so close to mine makes it a battle to keep focused on the task at hand. My instincts seem to think I’m supposed to be rutting her into oblivion before sinking my teeth so deep into her soft flesh that she’ll never be able to get away.
I cradle her skull in my hand while supporting her lower back with the other. She trusts me to keep her upright as I lean her into the shower spray to rinse the conditioner from her long hair.
The state of my cock can’t be helped—it’s harder than it’s ever been, bumping her stomach with no shame. Not even the soap or shampoo and conditioner have been able to lessen the scent of her pheromones.
Her dark blonde lashes fan over her cheeks as she keeps her eyes closed to avoid any soap running into them, and I’m enamored by how comfortable she is with having me this close.
Even hearing the basics of what she went through with Lukas’s dad was enough to have me teetering dangerously close to the edge.
If he had been in the room with us, I would have slit his throat myself. I’m sure what she actually endured was much worse than the glossed-over version she gave us while explaining why she ran.
She’ll never have to live in fear again.
Not as long as I’m alive.
Now I just need to sweet-talk her into letting me bite her, figure out how we handle the Chapmans without starting a war, and wipe the Jacksonville Demons off the map for good.
So yeah, I can practically breathe easy. I’m sure all of that won’t be a clusterfuck at all.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Charlotte
Malachy is so sturdy that it sets my frazzled system at ease just having him this close to me. I must look like a drowned rat with no makeup on and my wet hair sticking to my arms, but the mountain of alpha stares at me in a way that makes me feel beautiful. He was completely respectful as he soaped my body, then took his time shampooing and conditioning my hair.
My eyes are much greedier as I stretch up onto my tiptoes, running my soapy hands over his shoulders. His cock is long and heavy, pushing against my stomach as I soap his neck.
Well, the parts of it that aren’t covered in his massive beard.
“Wait, do you use conditioner on your beard? Is that how it’s so soft and crunchy at the same time?” I smile, and my nose scrunches as his eyes narrow.
“I use beard-specific products. I’m not a heathen,” he says, and those words in his accent make me laugh.
I spin around and rinse my hands off in the shower spray, then squeak when he playfully swats my ass.
His hand loops around my stomach, pulling my back to his soapy chest. His shaft bumps the top of my ass and lower back,and I once again curse the height difference. “I’m glad to see you feeling better.”
Looking at him over my shoulder, I nod my agreement.
“Me too. But I’ve been hogging all the water. We need to switch places so you can rinse off.” I move to step to the side, but really only end up grinding his cock to his stomach with my slick skin.
He growls, spinning me around and picking me up in one smooth movement. Once I’m wrapped around his front, he guides us into the shower spray. The warm water cascades over both of us, rinsing off the soap.
My hand tightens on his neck, and I stretch up until my mouth is as close to his as I can get. It’s still not enough, so I wiggle higher on his stomach by using my feet on his ass as leverage.
