She was made for me.
I must be the luckiest son of a bitch in the world. Watching her as she walks into the bathroom, strips out of the T-shirt I gave her and joins me in the shower is like watching a goddess come down from Earth. Her rosy lips just begging for my kiss. Her plump, ripe breasts where my hands belong, and her hips – hips made for one thing.
I won’t be able to let her go.
But neither will my family – not if they get wind of her. It’s a miracle I even got her out of the house like I did. But if they saw her…
No. I can’t think about that now.
I reach out and pull her into my arms. The warm water rains down upon us as I trace every inch of her body with my fingers. A woman’s body. The Greeks would have carved statues of her.
For years I’ve hidden my heart from the world. Living in the shadow of my cruel family has been a hell unto itself – a hell I knew I could never bring another person into. And I still can’t. But I also can’t let Bailey go. She’s lit a light inside of me that I simply can’t extinguish, even if I wanted to. I’ll just have to move faster to keep her safe.
If anything ever happened to her…
I’d go mad. Insane. I’d tear the world to pieces just to try and put her back together.
“This is cute,” I remark, gently playing with the small patch of fur between her legs. “But I think it’s time to get rid of it.”
“Anything you want.” Her eyes, so sweet and innocent, sparkle up at me as I grab the shaving cream and lather her up. I get down in front of her, a place I’d love to be daily, and gently slide a hand between her legs.
“Spread them for me, baby.”
She does, and I take my razor and carefully begin to shave her. She doesn’t even flinch; she trusts me. I move with precision and don’t stop until she’s bare. And Christ, what a fucking view.
“God, that’s a pretty pussy.”
I look up to see her face blooming with pride and embarrassment. She twists her head to her shoulder and bites her lower lip. “Yeah?”
My reply is to bury my face in it. She gasps and braces herself against the walls of the shower as I lap hungrily at her naked sex. My cock is rock hard between my legs, and I reach down and grasp it as I find her eager little button and apply pressure.
In no time, she’s shaking and whimpering my name over and over again. Shit, I’m already going to come, and I didn’t even get a chance to put it in. Her hips rock, and I grasp her firm ass with one hand and jerk my cock with the other. Her body shakes, and I spray my load all over her cute little feet.
Fucking incredible.
She lets out a long moan as I stand. Her eyes move lazily down to my cock and widen. “Did you…?”
“You’re damn right I did, baby. Just making you come got me there. Don’t worry. I’ll fuck that tight little pussy later tonight.”
Her reply surprises me. She leans against me and carefully traces the lines of my abs. “Oh, I know you will. But wow, did you make a mess all over my feet.”
All I can do is chuckle as I watch her wash my load off. She’s right; I came a lot, even after emptying my balls in her last night. I take the loofa and wash the rest of her, even her hair, which I run my fingers through before kissing her. My shower has a built-in bench on one wall, and I pull her down beside me and we sit there in the warmth together for what feels like forever. Then we dry off and head downstairs.
“Normally, I’d have a guy here to cook for us,” I explain, grabbing a pan. “But seeing as how that’s far too dangerous for now, I guess I’m in charge.”
“You are not!” Bailey practically jumps off her stool, comes over to me, and snatches the pan from my hand. “I’m going to cook for you.”
“Is that right?”
She nods, causing her hair to fall in front of her face. “That’s right. Now, how do you like your eggs?”
From my stool, I watch as she makes us breakfast. Scrambled eggs, toast, bacon, and avocado on the side. She’s wearing a pair of my shorts, rolled tight around her waist, and one of my T-shirts, doesn’t have an ounce of makeup on, and still looks like a million bucks. I’d put her on the runway in Milan and watch her put all those girls to shame.
Normally, I’m glued to my phone during breakfast, dealing with family issues related to one of our legitimate businesses, but as I stare at my new woman, I can’t even remember where my phone is or what I had to do today. In fact, I don’t even care.
She’s perfect.
“Ethan,” she says slowly. “I have a question for you.”