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Before I can storm up there and tell her I’d be happy navigating a forest of hair, a message appears on my phone.
I can hear your growling from here. Chill out. Another two minutes and you’ll get your surprise. – Eden
There’s no way you can hear me growling. These walls are sound proofed. Which is good, considering what I have planned for you tonight. – West
Promises promises. Two minutes, Captain Impatient. I promise I’ll be worth the wait. – Eden.
It takes another three before she sends a message telling me we’re good to go. And I swear I clear the stairs so fast I mustlook like a blur to the naked eye. When I push the bedroom door open with all the finesse of a man on the edge of sanity, I hear the sound of water coming from the bathroom.
“Eden?” I call out, because the bathroom door is still shut. “What’s going on?”
“I’m in here. Come in when you’re naked.”
I start to laugh. Well this is entirely unexpected. But I’ll do as I’m told, mostly because right now I’d do anything she told me to. And I’m not a man who’s afraid of being naked. I work out, I eat well. But still, I’m a little haphazard as I take off my jacket, shirt, then unfasten my belt.
“Actually, leave your pants on. I want to see you taking them off,” she shouts.
Shaking my head, I pull the belt from my pants, but leave them buttoned. Then I kick off my shoes and socks, because walking into the bathroom in three hundred dollars worth of calfskin leather feels wrong.
“I hopeyou’renaked at least,” I call out. Then I push the door open. And freeze in my tracks.
She’s drawn a bath. A deep, steaming one, surrounded by candles and rose petals, like we’re in a damn honeymoon suite. And she’s standing beside it in one of my shirts, the buttons unfastened to reveal her perfect body, her skin glowing in the golden light, her cheeks flushed like she’s nervous and proud all at once.
“Welcome to your spa evening, Mr. Abbott,” she says, huskily. “Don’t move. Let me get you comfortable.” She steps forward, and I reach for her, curling my hand around her waist.
“Oh no,” she says, moving my hand, a wicked smile on her lips. “No touching the staff.” She leans forward, her lips brushing my ear. “I have to say that in case the boss is watching,” she whispers. “But if you play your cards right, a hot guy like you will get a very,veryhappy ending.”
She unfastens the button on my pants, her fingers feathering over the hard ridge of my cock. “Oh my, that must be very uncomfortable, sir,” she says. “Let’s see if we can do something to help you relax.” She tugs at my zipper then pushes my pants down my hips. Her breath hitches as I step out of the wool fabric, kicking the pants to the side.
Her eyes take me in, her lips parting as her gaze lingers on my face, my chest, then dips lower. “Oh my,” she murmurs, running her fingers along the waist of my shorts. “I’m not sure we’re used to that size of excitement in our spa.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t walk around in my shirt then. And nothing else.”
“Don’t you like?” she asks, twirling around so I get a three-sixty view, her hair shimmering in the candle light.
“I love,” I growl. “Let me touch you.”
A smile lights up her face. Such a good girl. “No, sir.” She shakes her head. “Hmm, you really do need some relief here. So much tension.” She reaches for my shorts again, this time tugging them down, her knuckles brushing along my cock as it springs free. She inhales sharply, her pupils dark and wide.
“Jesus,” she whispers, more to herself than me.
“Eden.” My voice is a warning.
“I’m just appreciating the spa guest,” she says innocently, running her hand up my thigh. “You seem tense. I think you need to get in the tub.”
“Then get in with me.”
She rolls to her tiptoes, running a single finger along my cock, her fingertip twirling around the thick head. She leans forward and kisses the corner of my lips and I let out a groan. “Get in the bath,” she murmurs. “You need to relax.”
I don’t point out that she’s the one making me all worked up. Instead I do as she tells me, stepping into the huge, steamingtub. There are petals everwhere, sticking to my skin, swirling around my body.
“Do women really like this?” I ask. It feels a little… messy.
She laughs. “It’s pretty. It makes us feel special. Don’t you want to feel special, West?”
My throat tightens. I don’t even know how to feel special. “Just get in with me.”
“Patience, baby.” She leans over me, grabbing a small bottle from the shelf. Something floral and expensive-looking.
