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Monroe
“I thought you were working tonight,” Coop says as I blow through his front door.
“I am. Just dropped by to see Rhett before my shift and grab a quick shower. He in his room?”
“No, he’s in the shower.”
“Lucky me,” I tease.
“I better not hear any funny noises coming from the bathroom,” he hollers.
I wink and stride down the hall. The bathroom door is cracked, so I sneak in, strip out of my clothes, and step in behind Rhett.
He doesn’t even startle when I slide my hands around his soapy body and reach for his cock. It’s half-mast but grows quickly in the palm of my hand.
“Is this a common occurrence, women joining you in the shower? Should I be worried that you didn’t even flinch when I touched you?”
“You should be worried that your stealth skills are waning with age,” he says, wrapping his hand around mine, guiding it over his cock as he shows me the rhythm he likes. “You should also be worried that you won’t make it to work on time.”
“Oh no.” Releasing his cock, I steal the loofah from his hands. “I’m already running late.”
Rhett whips around. “You touched my cock, babe. Now it wants you.” We look down at his straining erection. It’s covered in suds and bobbing heavily between us.
Rhett grabs his cock, working it while I watch. “Why are you running late?”
Dammit. I squeeze my thighs together to suppress the growing ache, but it’s useless.
“Mo, I asked you a question.”
“Huh?” Peeling my eyes away, I blink up at his face. “I can’t concentrate when you touch yourself.”
He lets go of his cock, his soapy hand finding my hip. “I asked why you’re running late. Something happen at Animal Haven?”
“No. More like something happened at my house.”
He tilts his head, and I sigh, dropping my forehead to his chest.
“I walked in on my dad and Sharon kissing.” Several seconds pass, and I look up. “Say something.”
“That’ll kill the mood.”
Laughing, I reach for his cock and sure enough, it’s shrinking.
“If we’re going to talk about your dad kissing your best friend’s mom, I’m going to need you to let go of my dick, babe.”
“Sorry.” I let it go, but not without one final squeeze.
“Tell me what happened.”
“I don’t have time,” I say, soaping the top half of my body. “It’s going to have to wait until after my shift.”
Rhett takes the loofah back. “You talk; I’ll wash.”
Nothing in this world is better than a naked, wet Rhett kneeling between my legs. I’m tempted to latch onto his hair and shove his face between my thighs.
“Talk or I’ll stop.” He runs the loofah up the inside of one leg and then other.
“Right. Sorry.”
