AllFreeNovel
Share Us
A milky jet erupted from his cock.
He let out a hoarse cry, pumped twice more, and slumped in the chair. Sweat sheathed his tattooed arm and chest and dampened his hair. He grabbed a towel from the desk and began to wipe down his shaft.
Watching Val clean himself up after beating off, it got me all hot again. I couldn't stop myself. I ground my finger into my clit until another orgasm barreled through me, hard and fast. Flattening my back against the wall, I gritted my teeth and swallowed my own cries. Once the climax subsided, I could breathe again.
My cheeks flamed, not only from my climax. What had I done?
I tiptoed back to my bedroom and shut the door behind me. When I flopped backward onto the bed, the springs squeaked. What on earth had I been thinking? Spying on Val while he masturbated was bad enough, but I'd gotten myself off while watching him. Twice.
Damn if those hadn't been the best orgasms of my life.
I changed into my nightie and crawled under the covers. For a long time, I lay awake reliving those moments in the hallway and remembering the look on his face when he'd come. We couldn't work as a couple, I knew that much. Val and I had nothing in common. He was a celebrity with a checkered past, the kind of man who relished the spotlight and loved the big city. I liked my quiet life in rural Oregon, running my family-friendly naturist resort. Of course, he'd made it clear he didn't want a relationship with me and that he wouldn't start a brawl if another man expressed interest in me. He wanted sex, pure and simple.
Even that seemed like a bad idea. He was so…naughty. And I had a feeling if I got it on with him, one taste would never satisfy me.
No sex with Val. Decision made. He never needed to know I'd spied on him.
If I could just get my body to go along with that resolution…
Chapter Eight
Val
Eve was cooking breakfast when I walked into the kitchen the next morning. Instead of those very-short shorts and that tank top, the outfit I'd loved yesterday, she wore tight pink jeans and a loose-fitting white blouse. Her curves looked no less enticing in this outfit. She couldn't be frumpy even if she'd tried, not with that body.
"Good morning," I said, taking a seat on a stool at the island. Eve had already laid out place settings on the island, one on either side.
Across the island from me, she paused in frying up something in a skillet and glanced my way. "Good morning. Breakfast is almost ready."
"What about your guests? Don't they eat breakfast?"
"Their food is hot and waiting for them in the dining hall of the guest house."
I raised my brows. "It's seven o'clock. When did you get up?"
"Five thirty." She turned back to her cooking, stirring whatever it was with a wooden spoon. "I hope you like scrambled eggs, bacon, and pancakes."
"You didn't need to cook all of that for me. Especially not after making breakfast for sixteen other people."
"Oh, it's no trouble. I made the same thing for the other guests, so all I had to do was save a few pancakes for us. The bacon was precooked and warmed up in the microwave, so that was no trouble. I made fresh eggs, though." She smiled at me over her shoulder. "I hope you're hungry."
"Estou verde de fome. It smells delicious."
"Thanks, but I have no idea what that first thing meant."
"I said I'm starving." I winked. "In Portuguese."
"Wish I knew another language, but I barely passed high school Spanish."
"Maybe I'll teach you Portuguese—or Spanish, if you like. I'm fluent in both."
"Wow. I'm impressed." She shut off the stovetop burner and carried the frying pan to the island, then portioned out the eggs onto our plates. "Eat up. Can't have a guest starving on my watch."
I pointed at my plate. "You gave me more than you gave yourself."
"You're a big, strong man who can do a one-handed headstand. I assumed you'd need more protein than I do."
"That sounds rather sexist," I teased.
