Chapter 31 Boone
Even though I have no sense of the time and know damn well that I shouldn’t risk pissing off Rosie’s brother by being late for our meet-up, I can’t bring myself to care.
I’m back in the shower with her, taking my time, slowly washing her body and hair.
The soft smell of her rose scented conditioner fills the steamy space, mingling with the warmth of the water that’s cascading around us. Her dark blonde hair feels like silk beneath my fingers as I lather it up, using my nails to gently massage her scalp.
Rosie rests against my chest, her body relaxed and pliant, her breathing steady. It’s such an intimate thing, washing her hair, taking care of her, we aren’t talking yet I find myself savoring every second of the closeness.
Once I’m sure she’s clean, I guide her into the steady stream of water that’s been peppering her chest, carefully rinsing the soap from her hair. My fingers comb through the strands, making sure I don’t leave any trace behind, and I can’t help but notice how natural this all feels.
Hell, everything about being with her, whether it’s the mind-blowing sex, eating a simple dinner together, or falling asleep next to her, just feels right.
I grab the bar of rose-scented soap from the ledge and work up a lather, letting my hands roam over her body.
I start with her shoulders, working the tension out of her muscles, then move to her back.
My hands glide down to her chest, where I take extra time on her breasts, not because they need it, but because I can’t resist touching them.
Her soft skin and the way she lets out the faintest sighs under my touch are my addiction.
Eventually, my hands wander lower, and I crouch down to give her legs and feet the same careful attention. My fingers slide over her thighs, then down to her calves and ankles, and finally to her toes.
I’m cleaning her, yes, but I’m also cataloging every inch of her body and committing it to memory for later.
The damn shower curtain brushes against my leg, and I growl low in my throat before pushing it away. The flimsy plastic piece has been driving me nuts since I first stepped in here.
I’m going to rip it out and replace it with something better—hell, to gut the whole shower and give her something worthy of her.
A rain faucet above, jets on the bottom.
She deserves that and more, and I’d kill to be the man to give it all to her, even if it means breaking into my precious life savings.
Money doesn't mean anything to me anymore when it comes to spending on her. I want her to have the world. I want to make this home her dream house with me.
As I rise, my hands trace a slow path back up her legs. I linger at her thighs, then slide to her ass, giving it a gentle squeeze before letting my hand slip between her smooth skin. My fingers find her wet and ready, and when I slide one inside her pussy she clenches.
My thumb finds her clit, brushing it in lazy circles while I pump slowly in and out of her, loving the way she feels taking me.
Rosie melts into my touch, her head tilting back against my chest, her lips parting with a quiet moan. My free hand reaches for the detachable showerhead, pulling it down from its holder.
When I bring it to her chest and let the stream of water play over her nipples, the tiny rubber tips massaging her, she gasps in surprise.
“Oh, that feels… good,” she murmurs, her voice soft and breathy.
“You like that?”
She nods. “Yes. Keep going.”
I spend a little extra time there, letting the water tease her sensitive peaks. I move the showerhead in slow, deliberate circles, watching her nipples harden until they look sharp and her breathing is more labored.
Her quiet moans turn into soft purrs, her body arching against mine as she begs for more. She’s completely at my mercy, and I’m completely hooked. Every touch, every sound she makes pulls me deeper under her spell, and I know I’ll never get enough of her.
My cock nudges at her ass, demanding to be back inside her slick heat, hating every second it’s denied the bare skin it craves.
That frustration pushes me to work her harder, plunging my fingers deeper into her tight, wet pussy.
The showerhead wand in my other hand stays firmly pressed against her clit, the jets of water pounding against that swollen nub as I grind my cock against the curve of her ass, desperate for friction.
She moans again, the sound bouncing off the tile walls, and it only fuels my need to drive her higher. Make her come harder.
Her body trembles under my touch, her thighs quivering as I keep up the rhythm.
It doesn’t take long before her pussy starts fluttering around my fingers, her orgasm cresting like a wave as she softly moans my name, bending forward in a sharp crunch while I rub the showerhead back and forth over her sensitive clit, working every last bit of her out.
The sight of her coming undone, water dripping from her curves and her breath ragged, makes my cock throb painfully.
I want her again, all of her, but before I can act, she reaches behind her, her hand wrapping around me in a firm grip.
Her fingers pump me lazily, teasing me as her head tilts back, still recovering.
“Let me suck you,” she murmurs, her voice husky and wrecked, and it’s all the permission I need.
She moves to the small built-in shower bench and sits down, the water cascading over her shoulders and dampening her hair further. Her eyes lift to mine and her hands grab my hips, pulling me closer until my cock is right in front of her face at mouth level.
She takes me in her hand first, stroking me a few times, testing the weight of me. Her touch is firm in all the right ways. I brace one hand against the shower wall, spreading my legs wide to give her room as she cups my balls, squeezing gently, and uses the other to grip my cockhead.
Her thumb brushes over the tip, smearing the leaking precum, before her lips part and she drags her tongue around the tip.
“Put it inside” I instruct her.
She circles the dip of me again, before her lips seal snugly around me, and she works her way down my shaft, inch by inch, her tongue pressing against the sensitive underside, her cheeks hollowing.
When she reaches the back of her throat and can’t take anymore, she pauses. Her throat tightens and she swallows, choking loudly and causing some spit to drip from her lips.
The sensation draws a deep groan from me.
“Take me,” I growl, my voice low and rough. “Let me fuck your mouth.”
Her eyes flick up to mine, wide and bright, giving me all the permission I need. She nods, pulling back just enough to start again, her lips sliding down my length, turning red as a thin out while she attempts to take more of me.
I can’t hold back anymore. My hips move on their own, driving forward, deeper into her throat with every thrust. I wrap her hair around my wrist and tug, guiding her. She takes it like a pro, gagging, swallowing and sucking. Her hands gripping my thighs for support as I fuck her mouth freely.
Drool spills from the corners of her lips, mixing with the water that's running down her face, and the sight of her like this, bent over for me, eager and willing to please me, has me cursing into the quiet shower.
Rosie, the sharp-tongued lawyer who claims she’s awkward and unsure of her sex appeal.
Rosie the woman who didn’t think she knew what she was doing when she gave me a lap dance that I’ve never forgotten.
Rosie with her soft curves, gentle face and sweet spirit.
Rosie… my wife. The smartest and kindest woman I’ve ever met.
Right now, and always, she’s been nothing but the object of my desires and every thought. And with her lips wrapped around me, my name on her tongue, I know she feels it too. The trust. The belief in us being more.
“Fuck,” I groan, my head tipping back as my spine tingles and my balls draw up tight. My grip on the shower wall tightens, knuckles white, as I feel the end barreling toward me. “I’m going to come.”
Her throat tightens around me in response, swallowing me deeper, and that’s it—I’m gone. My hips still as I spill into her, my orgasm ripping through me with a force that leaves my legs shaking and my head stunned.
She swallows once, then twice, her eyes never leaving mine, drinking down every last drop of me like it’s her lifeline.
When I finally still, spent and panting, she pulls off my cock with a soft pop, her lips swollen and glistening. She doesn’t stop there, though, her tongue darts out to clean up the sides of my shaft, leaving me in awe in her wake.
She smiles up at me, wicked and proud, and I can’t help myself. I yank her up to stand, pulling her into the stream of water and crashing my mouth against hers. I kiss her deeply, tasting myself on her lips, the mingling of us driving me wild all over again.
“You’re going to make your brother mad at me,” I murmur against her mouth, my forehead rests on hers as I try to catch my breath. Thoughts about what this means. About all the lines I set that we’ve blown past this weekend start to crowd my thoughts.
I promised her I wouldn’t jeopardize her promotion. I swore I’d be on my best behavior and support her dreams, but then she fell into the lake. And she scared me. And suddenly all of those promises didn’t matter if I’d lost her.
And then she told me she wanted me too.
It’d be so much easier if she didn’t feel this, but she does. And we both know it.
She laughs and gives me a gentle shove. “Go meet with my brother,” she says, light and teasing. “I’ll be here when you’re done.”
I linger in the shower, anyway, caught between the need to talk this out and the very real understanding that Cain is not someone I can afford to screw around with.
“When I get back,” I say carefully, “we need to talk about this.”
The shift is immediate. The warmth in her eye’s fades, replaced by something guarded, unreadable. My chest tightens instantly.
Does she want to pretend last night and this morning didn’t happen?
She doesn’t answer me and after a few seconds of guarded silence she gives me a small nod.
I step out of the shower, toweling off slowly. I can feel her watching me the entire time. Every movement. Every inch I dry her eyes track it. I pull on a pair of discarded sweatpants and a T-shirt, shake the damp from my hair, and only then do I go back to her.
I lean into the spray where she’s still standing, cradle her face in my hands, and kiss her deep and unhurried, like a promise I don’t intend to break. Because I don’t. I’m not going to break this. I’m not going to break us.
“I’ll be back,” I murmur against her open mouth before I pull away.