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“Sawyer, sweetheart, I don’t know if I can handle your hands on me right now.” He looks down at his hard length that’s standing between us.
“No?” I ask as I run my now soapy hands over his chest.
“Fuck me,” he mumbles, tilting his head back, letting the water fall over his face.
I take my time running my hands over every inch of him. When I reach his hard length, I stroke him a few times, and a groan from deep in his chest fills the room. “Rinse,” I say, my voice gravelly.
Doing as I ask, he turns to give me his back, letting the water rinse away where my hands just explored. Like he did with me, I repeat the process over the muscles of his back, enjoying the feel of his skin beneath my fingertips. When I’ve had my fill, and the entire backside of his body is covered in soap, I tap him on the shoulder. “You can turn,” I tell him.
Slowly he turns, and what I see has me freezing in place. His hand is wrapped around his hard length as he strokes himself from root to tip. “Your hands on me,” he grits out.
I watch with rapt attention as he leans one hand on the shower wall to brace himself, while he continues to stroke himself. Backing up, I take a seat on the far end of the shower and spread my legs. On instinct, I reach down and run my fingers through my folds. I’ve never watched a man pleasure himself, and I’m so turned on that I need to cure this ache inside me.
“Fuck, Sawyer,” he pants.
Glancing up, I see his eyes are locked on my hands between my legs. I notice that he’s started to stroke faster, and that spurs me on to give him a show. Lifting one leg on the bench to give him a better view, I pleasure myself, mimicking him stroke for stroke.
“I want to fuck you, but this… this is the hottest fucking moment of my life. Don’t stop. Please, don’t stop,” he says with a desperate plea.
I don’t stop, just like he asks. I keep pace with him and refuse to take my eyes off his hand as he strokes himself. I agree that with him, this is the hottest moment of my life, but I can’t seem to find the words to tell him that. I’m too enthralled with watching him and giving myself the pleasure that my body seeks.
“Sawyer, I’m close, baby.”
I nod. I’m tilting on the edge of euphoria, but I can’t find my voice to tell him. All I can do is stare wide-eyed as his hand moves faster, his legs quivering. My hand shakes, but I don’t stop. I’m chasing the high that only this moment can give me.
“Fuck!” Royce growls as he finds his release. Watching him has me calling out his name as pleasure rocks my body. My eyes are closed as I slump back against the shower wall. The exhaustion from before the shower seeps in, and I’m ready for bed. “Come here.” His soft words have me opening my eyes in time to witness him sliding his hands under my body and lifting me into his arms, bridal style. “Let’s get you cleaned up.” Back under the spray, he sets me on my feet but makes sure to keep a hold of me. He takes over and cleans me up before shutting off the water and lifting me into his arms again.
“I can walk,” I tell him. I’m tired, but not so much so that my legs no longer work.
“Just let me do this.”
Not one to complain when a sexy man wants to take care of me, I keep my mouth shut and let him do his thing. Ten minutes later, we’re both dried off, my hair is brushed, and we’re climbing into bed. Royce pulls me close to him, and I rest my head on his chest, with his arms wrapped around me. It’s not long before I’m drifting off to sleep, and just before sleep claims me, I think I hear him whisper the words, “I love you,” but I’m not sure.Chapter 22RoyceIt’s been four months today since I first laid eyes on the love of my life. I don’t know what I did to have her be on that flight next to me, but it turns out to be the best thing that ever happened. We are in sync at work, and my fears of dating my assistant have long since been squashed. She knows me. Sometimes I think better than I know myself. She can anticipate what I want or need at the office, and at home, that’s where I take over. I pamper her because she deserves nothing less.
She’s now a permanent fixture at my parents’ table for Sunday dinners, and if I have my way, it will never change. It took me meeting Sawyer to finally see through the clouds that my family claimed I was living in. I wasn’t living. I’ve smiled more since meeting her than I have in years. Even the years that I was married. I knew already that marrying Jennifer was a bad idea. It ended in disaster, but it wasn’t until Sawyer that I realized exactly how wrong we were for each other. Sawyer and I never argue, and we both have this need to always be with the other person. Not for fear of what might happen if either of us are away, but because that’s what makes us happy.
