I groaned, remembering the softness of her skin when I’d placed my hand on her leg.My head was so fuzzy, I’d nearly passed out.Funny how Ihadpassed out in front of her today, after holding it together the first time.I would have laughed if I weren’t still burning with humiliation.
Still, whatever it was about her, Maya did it for me.And this hard-on that I couldn’t seem to get rid of?That was all the proof I needed.
“Screw it,” I muttered, yanking my shirt over my head and heading to the bathroom.The situation in my pants was no longer merely a distraction.Taking care of it had becomeessential.
My clothes dropped to the floor, my hand already pumping my cock as I turned on the shower and kicked my pants away, a low moan escaping my throat.I needed to take the edge off.Once I take care of this,I thought as I stepped under the spray,I’ll be able to think straight.
The cool water cascaded down my back while I stroked myself lazily, my cock hardening more in my fist.
How much better would it have felt if it were Maya stroking me instead?Her hand wrapped around me while she gazed at me with lust-blown eyes, her irises nothing but tiny slivers of gold around her pupils?Would she kiss me, slip her tongue in my mouth, match me moan for moan while she worked me to completion?Could I hold out, or would I need to line up and drive into her, sliding into her wet heat, groaning as she took me deep?
Fuck.
I stroked harder, faster, my balls tightening, heat coiling in my spine despite the cold water splashing over me.A fantasy of Maya beneath me, pulling me closer, hips rising to meet every thrust, her panting breaths scorching against my neck, her soft whimpers in my ear, begging, “Please, Liam,” tipped me over the edge.I came hard, sparks lighting behind my eyelids, my release seemingly endless, as Maya’s name spilled from my lips.
“Fuck yes,” I groaned as the last tremor faded, the tension easing at last.
I cleaned up, relief fresh in my veins, as my breath slowed to a steady rhythm.It was already much easier to think now that my dick was behaving itself, no longer hard enough to keep me from rational thought.
I turned the shower off and stepped out, reaching for a towel but finding an empty bar instead.Shit.I must’ve left the stack of towels on the bed in my lust-fuelled fog.Still dripping, I stepped out into the main room, and—
“Oh, wow.”
My head snapped up.
At the foot of my bed, hands clamped over her mouth as though she’d stumbled onto a crime scene and was trying to hold in a scream, stood Maya.
Instead of a crime, though, she’d walked in on me—fully naked, dick still half hard, frozen in place as I dripped water all over the Pattersons’ pink carpet.
fourteen
oh, wow
Maya
“Oh,wow.”
The Polly’s Pets bag I’d been carrying dropped to my feet as I clamped my hands over my mouth at the sight of him.
There, emerging from the bathroom wearing nothing but water droplets and his birthday suit, was the man I came to see.Andboy, did I see him.I sawallof him.
And let me tell you, Liam Bishop was most certainly not ill-equipped.
Not.At.All.
In fact, he was the opposite of ill-equipped.He was well-equipped.Hell, he was damn nearover-equipped.His dick was so huge that it should have had itsownpenis.
It didn’t, though.So, in that way, I guess his dickwaslike the Metatron.
I’m freaking out,I thought as I stared.Liam’severythingswung between his legs with each step,and I was dangerously close to needing a Rickman reverie to calm down.He was naked, and I couldn’t look away.And … and… he was …gorgeous.Every inch of his body was perfect.
I wondered what a fantasy of Liam narrated by Alan Rickman would sound like?I bet it would be doubly delicious.There was nothing, and I meannothing, that man’s voice couldn’t make better.
Snap out of it, Maya.
My face burned, sweat formed along my upper lip as my body overheated, and I was positive my cheeks were beet red.How could it be anything else when he displayed his chiseled body like he’d intended for me to see it?A perfect sprinkling of chest hair, still damp from the shower, stopped before his eleventy-billion-pack abs—seriously, who has that many abs?—and below that, a light dusting of hair formed the perfect happy trail.
You should follow that trail with your tongue.
