The spark in his eyes, dark and sultry, made my fingers tremble, and I worked my way down. God had given me this attractive, loving specimen. How could I have rejected him?
Anger.Grief.That’s how I denied every part of him.
Somehow we ended up in a shower long enough to create its own habitat at the Audubon Aquarium. And this man activated every showerhead. He was gonna milk this offer and pay for me to get a good flat iron, but I wasn’t mad at him.
For a moment I watched how steam licked over his wet muscles. Water sluiced over powerful pectorals, dripping down his six-pack, and I knelt to what beckoned me.
washington
. . .
That shower bench did me justice. Every damn section did. My brain ran through our positions like screenshots while I lay in bed, the top of Madison’s now frizzy hair tucked beneath my chin. Her ass an offering as I spooned her.God, give me strength. And thank You.
In the predawn darkness, Madison let out a sigh that made me want to love her again and again. “You know we’ve been going at it for over twenty-four hours.”
“Woman, what are you talking about? We just got home.”
“Mm-hmm.” She pulled out of my arms, and it took everything in me not to tug her back beneath me. After grabbing her phone from the nightstand, she flashed the screen in my face and murmured, “Yep.”
“Well, you know, I’m a man, so blood hasn’t flowed in my brain since?—”
“Should I call 911?”
“Hell, no.I’m good.”
“Great. Oh,” she said, eyebrows furrowed. “Is Texas coming back?”
“He left a little message for me.” I snorted at the thought of the AirTag Texas had left on top of a glass angel Madisoncreated, which lived beside the alarm keypad. Damn, I couldn’t believe he’d found my tracker. Dude was infuriating with that littleI-see-you-bruh energy, but nah, fam, you can’t stalk me.
“A message?”
Not in the way you think.“Yep.” I replied to brush off the topic. “I even texted him when we arrived. Just a check-in. But nothing. Maddy, if he left, that means he doesn’t want a warm place to stay. That’s on him. He has the key code if he wants to come back. Now, enough chatting about my brother. We’re in bed.” I squeezed the sugary piping out of this woman. “You ready for Dome Daddy?”
“Good night, Washington. Sex-a-thon complete.” She yawned, then patted my chest. “I’m officially upgrading your little gold star to a gold medal.”
“Madison, c’mon, girl.” I eased over her in our bed, my hands caressing every bit of her smooth, dark brown skin. She was moaning for me and wriggling away. The conflict ran deeper than the darkness around us as she scooted up the headboard.
I laughed under my breath. “One more kiss?”
Her fingers brushed over my beard, and she tugged me down. What started soft, spiraled fast. Hungry and hot, her lips parted mine and her thighs brushed my hips. She was ready to consent to round whatever this was. An internal battle, though, came out in the way her breath caught in her chest, her breasts heaving, heavy and sexy against me. She kissed me with a sleepy greed, slow but insistent, making my damn mind hum.
Was I getting some, or what?
She pulled back, her forehead resting against mine. She looped her finger into the wedding band on my gold chain and murmured, “I’m so in love with you. You already have almost all the degrees between us. Stop kissing me like you have a degree in pleasure, sir. I’m exhausted. My soul is exhausted. My lashes are exhausted.”
“So …?”
“Good night, Judge Babineaux.”
“There you go, using titles against me again. This time I can’t even get more of your good loving on a technicality: you knowing my name for once.”
“No, you cannot.” Another little yawn.
She drifted off, talking about how we should schedule sex-a-thons every three months, for the calories. That talk was dangerous. I climbed out of bed before my self-control filed for reparations.
I grabbed my phone, nothing but meaningless notifications. Nothing from Texas, who clearly left my text on read this afternoon.Not a surprise.
“Funny, Madison called me a stalker. Mybébéwas prophetic.” As I tugged on a pair of sweats from my walk-in closet, I tapped into another app. Aside from placing that AirTag in his pocket during dinner, I’d also placed a little gift in that fat wad of cash I gave him. The damn thing was smaller than a communion wafer. Found it online. Not sure if it was legal. The shipping and handling price tag cost more than the little contraption;thatcouldn’t be legal.
