Page 22 of Releasing Reenie

I shook my head, reaching down to adjust the band of my shorts and tie them tightly. “No, Reenie, I’m not. It happened in the heat of the moment, you regret it. I understand.”

She nodded, looking down at her feet again. She’d never looked so unsure. She’d never looked so vulnerable. But it wasn’t the kind of vulnerability I wanted to see.

“Honey.” I tipped her chin up with my finger. “We’re good. And stop berating yourself. We’re both adults. Both responsible. What’s done is done.”

I shivered involuntarily as the breeze picked up, suddenly aware of my wet clothes now that I was out of the lust haze. And she looked at me, hesitating only a second before wrapping her arms around me.

“Take the shirt off,” she said and tugged it up and over my head. “You’ll be warmer without it.” She looked down at my shorts. “Nothing we can do about those I guess.”

“Isn’t this the part where I’m supposed to get dressed?” I chuckled and she wrapped an arm around me. Back in control of the situation, her vulnerability fell away and in its place the strong capable Maureen Stahlbaum took over.

“Come on, stay close for heat. God, I should have gotten you home right away. Instead I…”

“You what? Ravaged me? Defiled me?” I shook my head, chuckling, but then my teeth started to chatter. “Both adults,” I reminded her with a shiver.

I didn’t protest as she moved us forward, still keeping me close. The cold had fully taken over and I couldn’t control my shivering no matter how hard I tried. “Good plan.”

Luckily it wasn’t a far walk to our apartments because the shivering wasn’t very manly.

She looked at me when we got to my apartment door, examining my face. “I don’t like this.” She gathered a breath. “I’m coming in.”

“I’m fine. Nothing a hot shower won’t cure.” I considered making a joke about her joining me but swallowed it.

“Hm,” was all she said, and fished my keycard out of my shorts.

“Strip,” she demanded as soon as she walked into my apartment. “I know the layout. I’m getting the shower going.”

I stepped inside, a little bewildered at the way she took charge of the situation. On one hand, I wasn’t used to being bossed around, on the other, I liked seeing her so capable. I liked this change in her. I was proud of who she’d become.

My cock hardened again, and my brows rose.So soon?The feral part of me sensing a challenge was turned on. What would it be like to dominate a woman so strong-willed? To make this woman want to submit to me?

Here I was, numb from the cold, my limbs clumsy and stiff, shivering like a newborn foal, and my fucking cock was hard. And my mind busily formed a new fantasy to keep me awake at night. I stared down at the tented material of my shorts with a frown. “I clearly need that blood elsewhere,” I mumbled with a shake of my head.

Untying my shorts didn’t go as I expected. My brain was telling my fingers what to do but they weren’t getting the message. Without proper dexterity it took way too long before the string hung loose enough that shoving the wet material down would be possible.

And just as I was about to do that, I’d realized there was another issue.

I wasn’t ashamed of my body, not even after the icy swim, but I knew as soon as she walked back in here and saw me naked, and hard, despite my freezing state, she’d be reminded of what happened. And reminding her of our visceral reaction to each other wasn’t what she needed.

“Here.” A towel flew around the corner and I caught it, wrapping it around my waist.

“Thanks.”

“Water’s warmed up.” This time she came around the corner and, as she did, my shorts fell in a wet splat to the floor.

She ignored them and, thankfully, didn’t seem to notice the tenting towel as she walked past me into the kitchen.

“I’m going to make you some”—she opened a few cupboards acclimating herself to my arrangements—“tea? Coffee? Hot chocolate?”

“Coffee’s good. Thanks.” I headed for the shower.

The water felt amazing but I couldn’t seem to really warm up, not even after half an hour under the hot spray. When I stepped out, the steam in the bathroom was as thick as fog.

Maureen knocked on the bathroom door. “I found some jogging pants and a sweatshirt in your room. I warmed them in the microwave.”

The thought of her in my room had me picturing her in my bed, me on top of her, this time her wrists and ankles bound. I still wanted so much more of her. Our quickie by the lake would never be enough. This woman was going to be the death of me.

“Wait, what? You microwaved my clothes?”

---