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Finally, after what seems like an eternity, he pulls back. With his eyes on mine, he sucks his fingers into his mouth, and my whole body turns hot.
"Mmm. You taste good, Bailey." He smirks. "Did you like that?"
I nod, still dazed.
"Good." His eyes rake over my body, and there’s intense hunger in them.
For a moment, I think we're going to take this further, that he's really going to fuck me, but he curses softly under his breath and reaches under the table. When he comes back up, he has a white towel, which he hands me.
"Time for a shower," he grunts and steps back, allowing me to rise.
When I sit up and my feet hit the floor, Porter swoops in and picks me up, bridal style.
"Porter!" I gasp. "You don't need to carry me! I can walk fine on my own."
"I'm carrying you," he says. "And besides, you're all covered in massage oil, and I don't want you slipping."
My face turns bright red. He's right, and we both know it, but having his arms around me again makes my heart thump and my chest ache.
When we reach the bathroom, Porter sits me down in the shower and turns it on, adjusting the temperature. When he's sure the water is right, he helps me stand, supporting my waist with both hands.
"There we go. Perfect." He smiles.
I'm naked and standing in front of him, his eyes turning dark. The shower is large, big enough for two people, and the steam is rising. I've never done anything like this before, and my palms are sweaty, anxiety hitting me.
"Ready?" Porter asks and strips his sweatpants off.
My heart is pounding even louder now, my pulse practically roaring in my ears. Porter is a beast of a man, tall and broad, with muscles everywhere. My eyes are wide as I take in his body—from his pecs to his abs and, finally, his cock, which is hard and long and thick, jutting up between us.
"Fuck, Bailey. Look at you," Porter groans. "Here, let me wash you. Then I'm going to take you home before I lose my mind."
I watch as Porter washes my body, cleaning the oil from me and then washing his hands. He rinses me off and turns the water off, and when I step out, there's a warm, fluffy robe waiting for me.
Porter wraps it around me, having me wait in his private bathroom while he gets my clothes. I'm finally starting to come out of the haze of him eating me out and the mind-blowing orgasm he gave me, and the reality of it all is hitting me hard.
I let my boxing trainer lick my pussy. Shit. I really needed him to train me, and on day two, I'm spreading my legs for him instead. Way to go, Bailey.
I'm mortified. Does Porter think less of me now? Will he refuse to continue our lessons?
"Bailey? How are you feeling?" Porter interrupts my thoughts when he returns, handing me my things.
"I'm alright," I tell him. "Um, listen. About before..."
"What about it? Are you sore?"
My face goes hot. "No. Well, yes, but only because I wasn't expecting that."
Porter's eyebrow raises. "So then what is it?"
I squirm. "Will you…still train me to box?"
His expression changes, and Porter's mouth quirks. Then, he's laughing. Not just chuckling but full belly laughs. "Is that all? Of course, baby. That has nothing to do with this."
Relief rushes over me. "Oh, good."
Porter hands me my clothes. "Here. Get dressed and I'll drive you home."
He leaves the room, and I quickly change, wishing I'd worn something cuter. My panties and bra are cute, lacy, and black, and my leggings are too. But my shirt is a simple, loose tee. I'm regretting my choices and making a mental note to always dress to impress when I’m near him when Porter comes back, fully dressed and looking delicious.
