Hayes #2
After her delicious dinner, I help clean up the kitchen, doing the dishes as she dries from a seat on the counter next to me.
She’s so fucking cute perched up there I can’t help taking my time.
She’s at the perfect height for me to be able to pull her ass to the edge, wrap her legs around my hips, and plunge into what I am sure is a perfect little pussy.
I have to forcefully pull my thoughts away from eating her out and fucking her on the kitchen counters so I don’t accidentally move faster than she’s ready for.
Instead, I think of the dry-as-hell legal contracts and terms for the acquisitions we’re working on for Olympus and I slowly regain control of my absurdly hard dick.
“You feel up to helping me give Cerberus a bath?”
“Given that I’m the responsible party for why your demon spawn looks like a ghost, of course I’ll help.”
“Demon spawn?” I chuckle imagining what that even is or why she would use it for Cerberus.
“His little cropped ears look like horns and his eyes kind of have a reddish-brown glow. With his glossy black fur, he’s totally a hellhound of some sort, but he’s just the sweetest and he’s yours, so demon spawn works.”
I shake my head at her comfort with a dog that is trained to take down a 200-lb man and subdue him until other means arrive. He’s jumped over cars in pursuit of a mark, and his surveillance skills are better than any tech system I could buy, not that I don’t have a top-of-the-line system in place.
The way Paige handles him, and how he responds to her, is unique. He acts more like an oversized golden retriever with her than the born and bred bodyguard he is. I’m still taking the Vegas odds that he would decimate anything that tried to hurt her.
I call Cerberus to me, and we all go up to my bedroom and into the expansive bathroom.
“In,” I tell him, opening the frameless glass door to the shower.
He drops his head and looks up at me with what can only be called puppy dog eyes that look entirely misplaced on a hundred-pound guardian.
“I’m not buying it, big guy. You’re a mess and need to get cleaned up for bed.”
I unbutton my shirt, remove my cufflinks, and shed the shirt on the vanity next to the sink.
I step out of my shoes and pull off my socks.
I’d strip down to my boxer briefs, but I assume that would be a little too much for Paige’s sensibilities, so I just empty my pockets on top of my shirt and turn to her.
She’s pulling her sweater over her head, exposing a white camisole with lace trim that stretches with the sway of her breasts that look to be held in place with a soft lace bralette that doesn’t provide much support or hide her chill.
She’s in leggings and already barefoot, so when the sweater is gone, she appears like she’s about to say something, only her jaw drops open.
I look down at my bare torso and flex my abs a little for her. Not every thirty-five-year-old can rock an eight-pack, but I put in the grueling hard work to maintain this one. Her look of awe is all I need to make sure I’m up again at dawn tomorrow, getting in a workout in my home gym.
“Good Lord almighty, this is what you look like under your clothes?”
“Come here and I’ll let you touch me to see if you’re dreaming,” I tease.
“I’m not passing up that offer,” Paige mumbles, her steps already bringing her closer.
A tremor of anticipation runs through me, and I don’t remember the last time I felt something like that. Fuck, I want her hands on me.
Her fingers reach out tentatively, softly brushing over my chest before she flattens her hand against my skin, and I burn at her touch.
Both of her hands now run across my chest, her thumbs caressing over my nipples unexpectedly, sending a shiver down my spine and alerting my cock to her proximity.
She slowly drags her hands along my obliques with her thumbs pressing against my abs, stretching out the anticipation that jacks up my heart rate.
I breathe shallowly, forcing myself to stay still. The last thing I want is to scare her with the desire that races through me and drives me to pounce on her, pull her clothes off, and mount her in seconds to take my fill of her gorgeous body.
Her fingers dip with my abs and work even lower, toward the hard bulge in my pants begging to be released. When her fingers and her eyes reach my waistband, she pauses and looks up at me.
“You want me?” She says it in a breathless, unbelieving way.
It has just become my mission to remove the doubt from this innocent woman’s mind and ensure her that she is, in fact, the most delectable, gorgeous, perfect example of everything I could possibly want wrapped up in a cotton candy package.
“Wanting you doesn’t even begin to touch the depth of what I feel.
I want to do very bad things with you, things that would shock and scare you even,” I growl, remaining still by some act of God that has nothing to do with my own self-control.
“But not tonight.” I take a short step back, which is physically painful, and watch as her hands stretch with me, and then fall from my skin.
“Why?” she asks, her naturally pink lips pouting.
My attention is focused there, but all I can think of are her nipples and if they match this delightful color and what they would look like after I spent some time licking and sucking on them.
I rake both of my hands through my hair and allow myself a moment to breathe. Contracts and terms. Not her hard little nipples or the pussy below that I want to strip bare and rut into without thought. Unsexy contracts and stupid terms.
“You’re not ready. Remember what I said?”
She nods, but I catch the look of longing. Just you wait, baby.
Cerberus barks, the sound echoing through the bathroom and bringing me out of the Paige spiral I was lost in. He’s standing at the shower door, his eyes fixed on us. He paws at the door and snorts.
“Yeah, yeah, we’ll stop messing around already.” Only, this is just the tip of what messing around with Paige could lead to. “Grab a couple of towels from that cabinet,” I direct, motioning to the linen closet. Paige turns on her heel and quickly moves to do as I ask.
I open the glass door and Cerberus moves back into the large enclosure, looking up at the multiple shower heads.
I only turn the tap for the handheld and wait for it to warm up.
The shower door closes with a soft thump, and I turn to see Paige has stepped into the shower with us, her leggings pulled up to expose her calves.
I didn’t think I could find ankles or calves hot, but she’s proving me wrong at unexpected turns, so now I have an ankle fetish I need to exercise.
“There’s dog shampoo on that shelf,” I tell her, instead of falling to my knees and taking her foot in my hand to kiss that damn calf.
I turn back to the big dog.
“Time’s up, buddy. Let’s get you clean.”
Paige helps soap up Cerberus as I rinse off the flour that made him a spotted gray specter of himself.
Demon spawn, she called him. That would make me a demon.
I wonder if angels fall for demons. I move to shut off the water and I’m about to tell Paige to grab a towel when Cerberus shakes his big body, showering us with the water from his fur before she’s ready.
Water drips off her nose and her white tank is doused, the print of her lace bra showing through, along with her pointed nipples.
They are pink, perfect little buds, just like her lips.
My dick is stupidly hard as I stand observing her, making no move to help her dry off when I like her wet so much more.
“I should have expected that,” she says. She shakes her hands off and pushes back the wet hair that sticks to her face, unaware that she’s my living, breathing, completely wet dream.