Page 24 of The Noisemaker

He leaned forward, pressing his lips against mine. “Looking like my wife.”

“Here’s your stop,” the driver announced loudly, clearly annoyed.

“Thank you.” Desmond handed him a big bill and insisted that he keep the change for a tip. He got out of the car and then walked around to the other side to get my door. “I am a lucky man,” he commented, looked me up and down.

Giggling, I took his hand and allowed myself to be escorted. “Thank you.”

We walked to our apartment and when he pulled out his keys, it hit me.

“After you,” he said, swinging the door open.

“Oh!” I exclaimed. “First footing!”

He frowned. “What?”

“It’s one of the fifteen traditions for the day. In Scottish tradition, good luck apparently comes in the form of a tall, dark man.” I winked at him. “So the New Year’s tradition is that in order to ensure good fortune for the household, the first person to cross the threshold of the house needs to be a tall, dark man.” I gestured to him. “You are tall, dark, and handsome so you need to be the first to enter our home.”

He snickered to himself as he walked in. “We do all this wild stuff all day and then end the night with me being the good luck charm. Ain’t that some shit?”

I walked in after him and slid off my coat. With a suggestive look, I smirked. “Who said the night was over?”

He pulled at his bow tie, unraveling it. “If you aren’t on the list of fifteen things we need to do today, I don’t want to do it.”

I cackled. “Let me get a shower first and I’ll put myself on the to do list.”

“Can you be naked and on the bed in fifteen minutes?”

I usually took a longer shower after a night of dancing and sweating, but Desmond unbuttoned his pants and I could see his erection.

I nodded. “Fifteen minutes.”

A ghost of a smile played on his lips as he eyed me. “Let’s go.”

I took my shoes off and ran up the stairs. Stripping out of my dress, I placed it on the hanger and then ran to our bathroom. I grabbed a towel and washcloth before turning on the shower.

I stepped inside.

“Yes,” I mumbled as the hot water met my skin.

Forgetting about the time crunch I was working with, I let the water massage me. I rinsed myself off before I started to lather myself with soap. The washcloth moved over my skin as I imagined how being rubbed down by my man after a long day would feel. I thought about the last time Desmond gave me a massage. It went well until it deteriorated into some of the hottest sex we’d ever had.

“You need some help?” His deep voice startled me.

As I turned around, I almost slipped as I saw that he was naked. I threw my hand against the back wall to balance myself. “You scared me.”

“I’m… I’m sorry about that.” His gaze dipped down to my pussy before locking eyes with me again. “Do you need some help?”

We were inches apart yet not touching.

As if he heard what I was thinking, he waited until I finished rinsing the soap off of me before stepping into the shower. With his broad shoulders and tall frame, he blocked the showerhead, so nothing was getting on me, and water poured on him.

He went from dry to wet in seconds.

And as sexy as he was clothed and dry, he was undeniable naked and wet.

My nipples were hard, and his presence only stimulated them more.

“You were taking too long,” he stated as he held up his own washcloth. “I needed a shower, too. I also worked up a sweat on the dance floor.”

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