Reluctantly Yours(55)

Lucy greets us with towels and a cup of coffee. She’s been busy making breakfast. The amount of food she has prepared is excessive. It’s far too much for two people.

“When would you like breakfast?” she asks, fluffing Baxter’s wet coat with a towel.

“Soon. I’m going to take a shower first.”

She nods. “Coffee for Miss Chloe?”

“Sure.”

“How does she take it?”

“Two sugars and cream,” I rattle off like an expert boyfriend. The only reason I know that is because I overheard Rose asking Chloe last week so she could make it for her.

Lucy prepares the coffee for Chloe and hands me the mug.

With Baxter still enjoying his pampering from Lucy, I take the coffees and go upstairs.

Chloe’s still asleep. I take her in. Her head is the only thing I can see. The rest of her body is burrowed into the covers. Her red hair, wild and loose over the pillow, her long lashes hovering over her lightly freckled cheeks.

I set her mug down on the bedside table. Maybe the aroma will wake her up. The cold water sliding down my back redirects my attention to the shower.

In the bathroom, I strip out of my wet clothes and step into the shower. Any relief I had achieved from the run quickly dissipates as I stand under the water, my dick quickly springing to life again. This is becoming a routine. Run, shower, stroke my dick thinking about coming inside of Chloe. What I had put to an end in bed earlier, I let myself continue this time.

With my throbbing cock in my hands, I imagine Chloe’s face clouded with lust at the sight of my erection. Her hands wrapping around its thickness, her sweet, pink lips parting to welcome me into her warm mouth. I imagine bending Chloe over my desk and fucking her hard, my cum sliding down her inner thighs. Marking her as mine.

She’s the farthest thing from it. Maybe that’s why I want her so bad.

That’s why when her image appears in the doorway, through the steam of the shower, I don’t break my rhythm.

Chloe’s there, her wild red hair and expressive eyes watching me and I meet her stare head on.

Her baggy t-shirt covers her tiny shorts, making it appear like she’s got nothing on underneath. Even through the steam I can make out the peaks of her nipples through her shirt. My mouth aches to taste one.

I stroke harder, my hand tightening around my shaft.

Knowing Chloe’s eyes are on me, taking in every detail as I stroke myself, only urges me on.

With each pull, I roll my wrist, squeezing the sensitive head. Chloe’s mouth is gaping open, a perfect ‘o’ forming on her lips. I imagine it’s her mouth I’m fucking. My spine tingles and I let out a guttural groan of pleasure.

A second later, the hot liquid of my orgasm explodes from the head of my cock, and her name falls from my lips.

My eyes close with the intensity of my release. Fuck. That was insane.

When I finally open my eyes, Chloe is gone.





CHAPTER 16





Chloe





I slam the bathroom door shut and rush to the dresser.

Sweet Jesus. What just happened?

Still half-asleep and needing to pee, I just walked in on Barrett showering.

Naked.

Obviously, that’s how people shower.

I glance around, wondering if I’ve been caught. Of course, I was caught. Barrett saw me.

He saw me through the foggy glass of the shower and still kept stroking himself.

Without much effort, my brain replays the moment back in vivid detail.

Barrett naked in the shower. Steam rising around him. One large hand braced against the tiled wall while the other fists his hard cock, pumping furiously.

When I walked in, his head had been down. I should have left, but I stood there frozen, my legs powerless to move. My eyes unable to look away as the water sluiced over his broad shoulders, down his strong chest and through the tributaries of the V indentations at his hips.

Did I mention the monster cock in his hands?

Yeah, that thing.

It’s clear now why Barrett’s hands are large. They have to be to manage other large things.

Barrett’s hips flexing as he thrust harder, faster, into both fists. The way he stared at me from behind the glass. The potent lust in his eyes and the guttural sound he made when he came. And said my name. Now, it’s all seared into my brain.

I hear the water shut off in the bathroom—had I really been oblivious to the sound before?—and it spurs me into action.

I don’t even know what I’m putting on, but something other than pajamas so I can go downstairs before Barrett comes out of the bathroom.

I manage to find jean shorts and a t-shirt and throw them on.

If it weren’t July I’d probably opt for a sweater, too. Anything to put more layers between my body and the outside world where Barrett will inevitably be. Barrett and his massive cock.

Why is it that walking in on Barrett stroking himself feels more mortifying than when he walked in on me in the bathtub?

Because he saw me and he didn’t stop. He looked me straight in the eyes while his dick continued to thrust into his hands. I watched everything, too captivated by what I was witnessing to turn away. And he knows I liked it. I could tell by the way his eye narrowed and his mouth curved into a devilish grin. Gotcha.

I comb through my wild hair, then race down the stairs, nearly tripping on the landing and plummeting to my death down the wood staircase.