Page 12 of Working for Her Heart

Once the rest of our clothes are shed, I tug her into the shower with me. Her hands leave trails of tingling heat as they map the contours of my bulk. While she does, I work the bands holding her hair in its twin braids free, like I’ve been itching to do. My fingers slide through the silky tresses, freeing them from their confines.

When they all hang loose, I shift her back beneath the water, wetting them. I grab my shampoo squirting a dollop in my hand before working it into the long locks. Her moan has my hard cock twitching.

“Oh God, that feels amazing.” A purr falls from her as she relaxes into my ministrations.

After rinsing the suds, I repeat the process with the conditioner. Only then do I let myself explore her luscious body. Soaping my hands, I run them from her shoulders down her arms and back up.

I leisurely slide them around the heavy globes of her breasts. Hefting their weight in my palms, I let my thumbs strum the hard buds of her nipples. The accompanying noises she makes have my balls tightening, urging me to hasten getting us clean.

Eventually, I work my way down her body, massaging soap onto her skin as I do. Over her soft, protruding stomach I can’t wait to nestle into. Across plump hips I’m planning on digging my fingers in. Past round, kneadable ass cheeks I’m going to be bouncing against. Around thick thighs I’m dying to have wrapped around me.

Finally, through slick swollen folds, I’ll bury myself in so deep we won’t know where I end and she starts. She parts her legs for me when I get to her mound covered in short, coarse curls the same honey color as the hair on her head. Her whimpers when my fingers brush her distended clit have my cock weeping, spurring me into rinsing her off.

I reach for the soap, intent on repeating the process much quicker with myself, but Jessa takes the bar from my hands. I glance at her in question as her tongue swipes across her full bottom lip.

“My turn,” she purrs with hooded eyes.

My cock jumps in response as a groan escapes. I’m not positive I’m going to last through this, but I’m damn sure gonna try. If not, there’s always the rest of our lives.

Chapter Ten

Jess

Lane wasn’t making some glib comment when he said he was going to worship me. He’s following through on his promise not only completely, but thoroughly. Every nerve in my body is alight from his caresses. He’s left no part of me unattended.

Which is utterly new for me. In my experience, men zero in on two, maaaybe three places. They manhandle the breasts, poke into your pussy, maybe squeeze an ass cheek. If you’re lucky, they find the vicinity of your clit and give it a few half-hearted swipes. Demanding you come but not really caring if you do. The worst is when they insist you orgasm before them, prolonging the torture until you fake the damn thing to get it over with.

Lane has, dare I say, lovingly shown attention to each and every part of me. Including the ones I’d rather not dwell on. But he seemed to have no issue at all with my flabby belly, which sticks out more than it should. Or my doughy hips or jiggly thighs. He gave them just as much attention as the rest.

Not only that, he washed and conditioned my hair. I never realized that was something which could be considered foreplay, but I stand corrected.

Now it’s my turn to get my hands on this gorgeous, rugged, stupidly sweet man. Setting aside the soap I took from him, I pick up the shampoo. I have to go up on my toes to reach his shaggy tresses.

What does he do?

He drops to his knees right there in the shower so I don’t have to stretch.

“Thank you. This is much better,” I murmur.

“I should say so,” he replies before burying his face in my squishy stomach.

My pulse quickens, chest squeezing as he softly rubs his bristly scruff across it, followed by soothing kisses. I don’t know how it’s possible, but tears prick at my eyes as my pussy flutters.

Gah, this man is going to be my undoing. I might as well hand my heart over on a platter, because he’s doing his best to take possession of the damn thing. Blinking back the urge, I return my focus to his downy locks. They're so much softer than they look. I work my fingers through the strands and rub the pads of them over his scalp.

He groans. “Fuck, that feels amazing. Who knew hair washing could be so erotic?”

I chuckle. “I had the same thought.” Reluctantly, I pull my hands from the tresses. “Switch with me so I can rinse it.”

We shuffle positions so he’s under the water, and we wash the suds out. I coat conditioner on the ends and reach for the soap again, lathering it. He rises, and it’s finally my turn to explore every nook and cranny of his chiseled form.

Thick arms bulging with solid muscle. The broad barrel chest covered in coarse hair, which narrows down over flat abs. Slim hips where his engorged cock springs up.

When I get to the hard shaft, I wrap my hands around the velvety steel length. They glide up and down and my pussy clenches in anticipation of having it thrusting inside me. Bringing me pleasure I’m sure only Lane will be able to give.

I watch in fascination as his stomach muscles quiver. His groan has me smiling, and I reach down with one hand to cup and gently squeeze his balls, which are drawn up tight against the base of his cock.

My thumb runs across the weeping, bulbous head on an upstroke.