Page 26 of The Bourbon Bride

“Come here and I’ll let you touch me to see if you’re dreaming,” I tease.

“I’m not passing up that offer,” Paige mumbles, her steps already bringing her closer.

A tremor of anticipation runs through me, and I don’t remember the last time I felt something like that. Fuck, I want her hands on me.

Her fingers reach out tentatively, softly brushing over my chest before she flattens her hand against my skin, and I burn at her touch. Both of her hands now run across my chest, her thumbs caressing over my nipples unexpectedly, sending a shiver down my spine and alerting my cock to her proximity. She slowly drags her hands along my obliques with her thumbs pressing against my abs, stretching out the anticipation that jacks up my heartrate.

I breathe shallowly, forcing myself to stay still. The last thing I want is to scare her with the desire that races through me and drives me to pounce on her, pull her clothes off, and mount her in seconds to take my fill of her gorgeous body.

Her fingers dip with my abs and work even lower, toward the hard bulge in my pants begging to be released. When her fingers and her eyes reach my waistband, she pauses and looks up at me.

“You want me?” She says it in a breathless, unbelieving way.

It has just become my mission to remove the doubt from this innocent woman’s mind and ensure her that she is, in fact, the most delectable, gorgeous, perfect example of everything I could possibly want wrapped up in a cotton candy package.

“Wanting you doesn’t even begin to touch the depth of what I feel. I want to do very bad things with you, things that would shock and scare you even,” I growl, remaining still by some act of God that has nothing to do with my own self-control. “But not tonight.” I take a short step back, that is physically painful, and watch as her hands stretch with me, then fall from my skin.

“Why?” she asks, her naturally pink lips pouting.

My attention is focused there, but all I can think of are her nipples and if they match this delightful color and what they would look like after I spent some time licking and sucking on them.

I rake both of my hands through my hair and allow myself a moment to breathe. Contracts and terms. Not her hard little nipples or the pussy below that I want to strip bare and rut into without thought. Unsexy contracts and stupid terms.

“You’re not ready. Remember what I said?”

She nods, but I catch the look of longing.Just you wait, baby.

Cerberus barks, the sound echoing through the bathroom and bringing me out of the Paige spiral I was lost in. He’s standing at the shower door, his eyes fixed on us. He paws at the door and snorts.

“Yeah, yeah, we’ll stop messing around already.” Only, this is just the tip of what messing around with Paige could lead to. “Grab a couple of towels from that cabinet,” I direct, motioning to the linen closet. Paige turns on her heel and quickly moves to do as I ask.

I open the glass door and Cerberus moves back into the large enclosure, looking up at the multiple shower heads. I only turn the tap for the handheld and wait for it to warm up. The shower door closes with a soft thump, and I turn to see Paige has stepped into the shower with us, her leggings pulled up to expose her calves. I didn’t think I could find ankles or calves hot, but she’s proving me wrong at unexpected turns, so now I have an ankle fetish I need to exercise.

“There’s dog shampoo on that shelf,” I tell her, instead of falling to my knees and taking her foot in my hand to kiss that damn calf.

I turn back to the big dog.

“Time’s up, buddy. Let’s get you clean.”

Paige helps soap up Cerberus as I rinse off the flour that made him a spotted gray specter of himself.Demon spawn, she called him. That would make me a demon. I wonder if angels fall for demons. I move to shut off the water and I’m about to tell Paige to grab a towel when Cerberus shakes his big body, showering us with the water from his fur before she’s ready. Water drips off her nose and her white tank is doused, the print of her lace bra showing through, along with her pointed nipples. They are pink, perfect little buds, just like her lips. My dick is stupidly hard as I stand observing her, making no move to help her dry off when I like her wet so much more.

“I should have expected that,” she says. She shakes her hands off and pushes back the wet hair that sticks to her face, unaware that she’s my living, breathing, completely wet dream.

twelve

Paige

Ikicktheduvetoff my legs and feel Cerberus shift on the bed, instantly alert after snoring a moment before. It’s very early, judging by the weak gray light barely edging out the dark night. I’m uncomfortable, and it’s not the plush bed. No, there’s a pulling, rollingneedin my center and it’s all Hayes’s fault.

I have resolutely managed to not touch or be touched by a man intimately since that awful high school party, and I very infrequently explore my own body since there’s not been much that enticed me to, or maybe it’s not wanting to open a door I can’t close.

But Hayes has ignited a furnace in my lady bits that throbs and burns to be touched, and I think it’s time I put in some work before I end up mounting Hayes in his sleep and not knowing what to do next. He’d probably laugh at my eager inexperience, and that thought keeps me from trying it.

“Cerberus, place,” I whisper, sending the dog off this bed to his on the floor. I don’t need him judging me for what I intend to do.

My heart hammers in my chest and my hands shake. I place my hands against my chest, my eyes closing as I remember the feel of the muscles and warm skin on Hayes’s body. I can already imagine the unforgiving hardness and the way my soft curves would mold against his muscled planes.

I glide my hands down my silk slip, crossing my belly as it trembles in nerves and anticipation under my fingertips. I inch the material up over my hips and slowly trail my fingers lower, feeling the swollen folds and slickness of my desire. I press my fingers against my center and heat blooms.

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