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Anderson lets out a loud bark of a laugh and hands me a wet cloth. “I didn’t impregnate your eye. It’ll be fine.”
The cool rag helps, but it isn’t until I bend over to splash water directly into my eye that it starts to feel better. The five-alarm fire dulls to a small, annoying sting that still makes my eye tear up, but it’s as good as it gets.
“Better?” Anderson asks.
“Yes, I’m okay.”
“Good, because now I’m making it up to you.” He yanks my shorts and panties down together, and I step out of them. His hand lands on my stomach, pushing me back against the bathroom wall. He kneels in front of me.
“It wasn’t your fau—ohhh.” A moan steals the rest of the word when he plants his face between my legs and licks firmly over my clit.
Okay, it’s fine if he feels a little guilty.
My hand grasps at his hair. He grabs my ankle, moving my legs apart, and I lean back on the wall for support.
The man has a damned magic tongue. He buries his face and eats the absolute hell out of me. Licking and sucking like his life depends on it. I’m losing my mind, and my knees start to go weak. Good thing there’s a towel bar right beside me to grab onto. I’m barely staying upright and I haven’t even come yet.
I’m totally oblivious to the burning eye now. It could fall out and roll across the room, and I wouldn’t notice.
The sensation building is so strong. “Oh, so good, oh god.”
The words come out in a whimper a moment before the climax hits me and whitewashes my brain completely. All I can feel are the pulses of pleasure and his tongue still working to draw them out.
Finally, a cracking sound brings me back to reality. Anderson’s eyes stare into mine as he holds me up against the wall. Damn my shaky legs. “That was the sexiest fucking thing I’ve ever seen,” he says. His gaze moves over to my hand that’s holding…a towel bar?
A towel bar that should be attached to the wall and shouldn’t have a chunk of drywall hanging from the back.
I tore it off the wall.
“Oh no!” I try to put it back like that might actually work. Stupid.
Anderson grabs it and tosses it into the bathtub. He’s too focused on snatching me up and carrying me to the bedroom to care. I’m tossed onto the bed, and he’s naked in record time.
When his body wraps around mine, there’s no anxiety. No overthinking. Just two hours of hands, lips, and countless orgasms.
We lie together after, my head on his chest. I don’t think I’ve ever been this relaxed in my life.
He runs his hand up and down my arm. “How’s your eye?”
“Fine. Ugh, I can’t believe I stopped too early. Blow jobs are the only part I’m good at.”
Sure, I also yanked a hole in a wall mid-orgasm, but there’s no need to talk about that.
“You said that before. I thought you were just anxious about our first time. Why do you think you’re bad at sex?”
If I have my way, he’ll never know the extent of it. The fewer people who know about me inadvertently watching porn with my dad, the better. But I need him to know I’m trying. “I got the wrong idea of what good sex was from watching porn when I was young. I’m unlearning some bad lessons. It’s embarrassing, so let’s leave it at that.”
“Okay.” He pauses. “Well, I won’t be fixing your plumbing or inviting a stepbrother to join us.”
“Shut up!” I smack at his chest, laughing despite the embarrassment.
“Hey.” He shifts so we’re face to face on our sides, my head on his outstretched arm. “You aren’t bad at sex.” He plants a soft kiss on my lips. “I love how passionate you are. I love how you melt under me when I take charge, but that you have no problem taking control too. It’s hot as fuck.”
“You get me out of my head and into my body, somehow. No one else has ever done that. I love it.”
He grins and reaches around to squeeze my ass lightly. “There’s so much I can’t wait to try with you, but you never need to worry that you aren’t making me happy in bed. I came until my balls were empty. It sounded like sipping a straw in an empty glass. Didn’t you hear it?”
“Ew! Stop it.”
It feels so good to laugh with him, to cuddle up with his arms around me and feel like, for once, I’m enough.
Despite the obstacles we’re facing—Roman and Lydia’s disapproval, the situation we’re going to have to figure out at work eventually—I won’t give him up.
He must be reading my mind because the last thing he murmurs before I fall asleep is, “We’re going to make this work.”
