Page 50 of Dark & Deceitful

I slide my arm through his. “Yes, sir.”

“You’re leaving so soon?” Darmond asks as he approaches us with his new prize in tow.

“Yes. That was…” Dark hums in his throat, trying to find the right word.

“Unexpected?” Darmond supplies.

My ex nods as if that word fits just right when that isn’t the word I’d use. “Yes, unexpected. I don’t want that to ruin the mood, so we’ll have dessert in my room.”

“Dessert, eh?” Darmond smiles as if dessert is code for something else entirely.

“Yes,” Dark confirms and pats my arm tucked through his. “A dessert to pair with my other dessert.”

“I like the way you think, Max.” Darmond pulls his pet in front of him, her back to his front, and cups her large breasts.

Not sparing the woman a single glance, Dark barks a laugh. “Let’s just hope she can suck cock just as good when it’s covered in cake.”

“Yes. Let’s hope,” Darmond replies with a chuckle and bids us a goodnight.

Knowing where to go, Dark leads the way back to our stateroom. Once inside, he locks our door and presses a finger to his lips, indicating I shouldn’t speak.

Not sure where he’s going with this, I nod in understanding as he groans and stretches both arms over his head. “Man, that was an eventful day. We should shower before I get your lips around my dick.” Raising both brows, Dark gestures for me to reply.

Oh. Right.

“Sounds great, sir.” I pull the response out of my ass, wondering why we’re still acting our parts in the confines of the bedroom.

“Great. Let’s get you washed up.” Not missing a beat, Dark tugs his shirt over his head, hot-man style, by tugging the back over his head, and my mouth almost comes unhinged at the sight of all those muscles and tattoos on full display as he unbuttons his jeans and tugs them, along with his boxer briefs, down to his feet in one swoop. Then he unlaces and pulls his boots off. I watch it all. Because this man has gotten far hotter with age. The six-pack he had when we got married is still very much there. Only the groves are somehow deeper, yet he has a thicker layer of just enough cushion over them. I don’t know how that works, but damn, it looks like any woman’s wettest of wet dreams, and now I have to shower with this body.

Not paying a lick of attention to my less-than-objective perusal, Dark folds his clothes neatly into a pile and sets his boots in the corner. Then he looks up to see me still dressed, and that’s when I get the biggest eyeful of… everything. SweetMother Earth, what is she feeding this man? Did he sell his soul to the Devil to look like that?

Redness blots Dark’s cheeks when he notices me noticing him. His cock twitches. Not that it has to do much. He’s always been a shower. You know those men who wear sweats, and you can see their entire thing outlined? That’s him. Only it’s about twice in length and extra girthy once he’s hard. I don’t want to say this because it’s totally wrong, but he and his father are hung the same. Not that I’d tell either of them that. Unless they brought it up themselves. Like father, like son—in most departments. Eek.

“Babe,” Dark croaks, covering his growing member with both hands as he sways uncomfortably.

Only then do I blink out of my hot-man trance and peek up at his face.

“If you keep lookin’ at me like that, you’re gonna end up with my dick inside you in the next thirty seconds. Get naked and meet me in the shower.” Grumbling to himself, my ex walks with a purpose into the bathroom. His bare feet slap the tiled floor as he turns on the shower. I do as I’m told—slip out of my dress, bra, and panties, as my insides go haywire, and my pussy… purrs.

This is a bad idea.

It's a very, very, very bad idea.

Gathering my clothes, I set them and my boob rocks on the small couch to deal with later and turn to face the open bathroom door. Clenching both hands down at my sides, my feet fuse to the floor. If I go in there, I’m going to be naked, fully naked, with my ex. He hasn’t seen me nude since… you know when. I’m older now. My body isn’t what it once was. I’m not like the others. Sure, with my clothes on, they cover up the imperfections, and normally I wouldn’t even give a shit, but thisis… I don’t even have words for what this is. It’s heavy. There. That’s what it is. Heavy.

“Babe. Get your ass in here,” Dark calls from under the shower spray.

I stall because maybe he’ll get out once he starts to prune, and then I won’t have to stand in a small shower stall, sharing water with my ex-husband, his intoxicating male scent, those muscles, that ass, and just… all of it, trapped in there behind the glass door.

No amount of alcohol or talking myself up will make this any less embarrassing and less… heavy.

“Now. Babe. The water is hot.”

If that water is hot, that means Dark wants to shower with me, and he’s willing to bathe in the waters of hell to do it. Dark likes warm water, the tepid kind—not water that leaves your skin ready to peel off. That’s a woman thing.

His loud curses jolt me into action.

I don’t want to fight, and I did promise to follow his lead.

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