“I have about fifteen more minutes under here, and then I’m getting dressed,” I replied, swatting at his arm as he came close. “You can put that”—I pointed to his duffel and garment bags—“in my room. It’s at the end of the hall. And the bathroom is right next to it. I have a towel and washcloth out for you.”
“Thank you.” He grabbed my hand and then leaned down to kiss it. “It’s really good to see you.”
“It’s good to see you, too.”
Fifteen minutes later, the dryer stopped, and the shower turned off. I had just gotten in my room when Lamar exited the bathroom.
Well, damn.
Lamar Anderson’s fine ass was wrapped in just a towel.
He stopped when he saw me.
At six feet five inches with broad shoulders and muscular arms, he filled the doorway with his thick body. The water droplets speckling his mahogany skin dripped down his firm chest and soft belly. The outline of his terry cloth–covered bulge held my attention and seemed to become more pronounced as the seconds ticked by.
My nipples tightened against the silk at the sight of him. I ripped my eyes up to his and flushed when I realized he’d caught me staring. “I, um… did you—is the bathroom steamy?” I stammered.
His gaze slowly scanned my body, lingering on my breasts. “Yes.”
“Okay, I’ll give it a few minutes,” I mumbled distractedly, sweeping my eyes down his body again.
He licked his lips and started to cross the room toward me. “How much time do we have?”
The way he looked at me sucked the breath from my body. His gaze left me exposed, inexplicably vulnerable.
I exhaled shakily. “Um, we need to leave in an hour and fifteen minutes.”
“So there’s time.”
“For what?” I whispered.
Without a word, he gently wrapped his hand around my neck and backed me up against the wall. His face hovered over mine. Seconds ticked by, and my heart started racing. His eyes bored into me with such a fierce intensity that it reduced me to nothing more than raw nerve endings. The want and need etched into his handsome features assured me he was just as far gone as I was.
“There’s time for me to show you what’s been on my mind,” he said softly.
His mouth was so close, I thought he was going to kiss me. But he hovered just out of reach, leaving me waiting, wanting. The electricity crackled between us.
“If you want that,” he whispered. “Do you want that?”
As he stared into my eyes, his fingers flexed against my throat. I knew my pulse told him my truth.
“Yes,” I breathed. “I want it.”
He let his hand slowly slide down my throat and drift between my breasts, parting my robe in the process. His fingers skated over my belly, unraveling the belt on the descent. He continued over my soft flesh until he reached his destination between my thighs.
He sucked in a sharp breath. “Is this for me?”
I nodded as his fingers played in my wetness. “Yes.”
He closed his eyes for a second as if he were letting my answer wash over him. “Is your pussy always this wet?”
“When I think about you,” I admitted.
Groaning, he crashed his lips into mine.
There was a passionate, almost-frenetic energy in the long-overdue kiss. Things heated up quickly. We had our hands all over each other, and when his tongue met mine, I felt it everywhere. I was so consumed that I didn’t even realize his towel and my robe had pooled at our feet.
My hands moved down his firm chest and the soft thickness of his midsection. The moment I dipped below his belly button, the kiss became more passionate. I wrapped my fingers around his dick and lightly ran my hand from the base to the tip.
