Total pages in book: 154
Estimated words: 148473 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 742(@200wpm)___ 594(@250wpm)___ 495(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 148473 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 742(@200wpm)___ 594(@250wpm)___ 495(@300wpm)
Out there tonight.
And all the things I want to do to her.
32
THINGS WE CAN’T UNSEE
Maeve
Mmm. The day swims before my eyes, syrupy and warm. But it’s warm here, too, in this big, comfy bed. Fumbling around under the covers, I kick off a corner of the blanket…when my eyes float open.
Rude.
I’d rather be sleeping.
I glance down at my legs. Oh. I fell asleep in my clothes. My eyes are sticky and my makeup clings to me. I groan. I should change. I should brush my teeth. I should wash off my makeup.
I drag myself out of bed, half-awake. Or half-asleep. Maybe both. Definitely both. I trudge to the bathroom in the dark, a huge yawn taking over me and blocking out the world as I turn the knob.
Oh. There’s a faint light on. Just one of several in the bathroom, keeping it dimly lit.
Wait.
Did Asher come home?
When the yawn ends a century later, I turn my head and I’m hit by steam, the rhythmic sound of the shower, and the sight of…Asher under the water, eyes closed, with a very ambitious erection in his big hand.
Fully awake, I squeeze my thighs together.
I don’t move a single, solitary muscle. I roll my lips together, sealing in all my sounds, every breath.
Don’t make a noise.
I bargain with my wild heart to beat quietly. With one hand grabbing the edge of the sink, I stare shamelessly at the man behind the glass, six feet away and diagonally across the room. His back’s to me, but I can see the side view.
His powerful thighs, his muscular ass, his firm abs, and one incredibly impressive bicep, flexed nice and tight as he strokes.
It’s a deliciously lazy stroke.
Like he’s testing out the weight of his cock in his hand, and the interest of his dick in a quick ride. But the assessment doesn’t last long. In a few seconds, his dick must answer with a hell yes since Asher’s hand glides along his thick shaft with lustful purpose.
His grip tightens as he reaches the tip. My eyes pop, and I rein in a feral gasp as he squeezes it, then lets out a shuddery breath.
This is so wrong.
This is such a violation.
I should go.
I really need to leave.
Right. Now.
I’ll just turn around and go back the way I came.
And I try, I swear I try, to will my leaden feet to spin around so I can quietly slip out and pretend I never witnessed his self-care. Even though I can never unsee the hottest sight ever—Asher’s hand curling tighter around his thick shaft, traveling to the base, then to the tip again. A harsh groan shudders past his lips. Those lush, firm lips that have kissed my neck, my shoulders, my face.
I grow infinitely wetter.
My cheeks are on fire. My entire body is engulfed in flames, but I have to tear myself away. I purse my lips, pivot quietly, and valiantly, I don’t even know how, find the will to head for the door. Hand outstretched, I reach for the knob.
“Don’t you dare leave now.”
Chills erupt down my spine at the sound of his voice. The rough, carnal command in it.
“Don’t go?” I ask, in a shuddery breath, not quite turning around in case I heard him wrong over the patter of water. There’s no way he said that.
“Watch me,” Asher says in a taunt. “You know you want to.”
How does he know? Did he see me staring savagely at him? A flush crawls up my chest. I swallow, then turn around, guilty as charged. I gasp, no longer looking at his silhouette. He’s turned, and he’s wiping off the steam on the glass door with one hand. He’s shifted his stance, giving me a three-quarter view of his impressive body.
And at last, I can see all of his cock.
My thighs clench.
Sure, I felt him through his slacks, then his boxer briefs two weeks ago. I had a rough idea of the goods. But now I’m seeing it. This man is blessed. I can’t stop staring at his dick—it’s the prettiest one I’ve ever seen. It’s big, and beautiful, and my favorite color—pink.
But that’s not the real reason I’m staring. Dicks are whatever. They hang, they dangle, they sway. Mostly they get in the way.
The reason I can’t stop staring is he lowers his hand to it again and looks my way as he gives a tug, while never looking away from me. His green eyes flare with heat, a primal kind of lust. Now that he’s cleaned off the steam, he’s created a viewing area for me.
“What’s the verdict, Hartley?” he prompts, sliding that big hand down his hard-on, casting a spell on me with his cock.
I nod slowly, like he’s the puppeteer working the strings on my head. “I’ll stay for the show.”
With my yes in hand, he flashes a cocky grin that burns off in seconds. His hand slides up and down, up and down. In a slow, tantalizing rhythm. It’s impossible for me to look elsewhere. I draw a deep breath, stutter it out and keep staring, my lips parted, my eyes hungry.