Page 54 of The Opposite Effect

Fuck!

Ignoring the begging protests of my cock, I withdraw from Clara in one swift motion, place her onto her feet, then head out of the shower.

“Where are you going?” Clara’s voice is as shaky as her thighs.

“Need a condom.” My words are gruff, spurred on by my stupidity of forgetting something as critical as protection. This is the furthest I’ve ever gone without a condom. Normally my cock wouldn’t get within sniffing distance of its target without being wrapped.

Only a woman as captivating as Clara would force me to lose my rational head.

Snagging my jeans off the floor, I check the back pocket for my wallet. Even beyond annoyed with the delay, my cock is as hard as stone. The memories of Clara’s heat wrapped around it is enough to hold its focus.

Failing to find my wallet in my jeans, I makemy way to my bedroom. My steps are as fast as the string of illicit curse words streaming through my head.

I stare at the top of my dresser for several seconds, shocked and confused. My bike key is in its rightful place, but my wallet is nowhere to be seen. I always house my wallet and key in the same location, so where the fuck is it? Only when the events of last night run through my head does another reality dawn on me. I left my wallet on my desk at Inked.

Goddammit!

I scrub my hand down my tired face as I stride back into the bathroom, mumbling incoherently under my breath. My steps are no longer eager, weighed down by my rapidly deflating cock. Because I’ve never brought a girl back to my apartment, and most of the bunnies I’ve played with bring their own supplies, I don’t have a single condom in my entire place. Not a goddamn one!

When I enter the shower, my stupidity hits me fair in the guts. Even concealed behind a thick sheet of steam, nothing can take away from the entrancing beauty of a saturated and completely naked Clara. Her body is pure perfection. Graceful and lean but designed to be fucked with mouthwatering pert breasts, long toned legs, and just the right number of curves to set my heart racing.

Her body is a promise of many restless nights and mind-shattering orgasms. And I’ve gone and fucked up the opportunity by not doing something as basic as stocking my bathroom vanity with condoms.

I’m a fucking idiot.

When Clara notices me entering the shower, her lips part, and her breathing turns excited. Her chest thrusts up and down as she steps deeper into the flow of water. A steady stream of water rolls down her face, removing any tearstains left clinging to her cheeks. Her inviting eyes sweet talk me into joining her without a single word seeping from her lips. When I fail to stepforward, she crooks her finger and gestures for me to move closer.

“I can’t.” My words come out strangled since I have to fight my mouth to release them.

Clara’s eyes drop to my once-again jutted and primed-to-go cock, its new bout of stiffness stirred by the ravishing visual of her naked in my shower.

“I’m pretty sure you’re good to go.” The soft purr of her voice makes me even harder.

I shake my head. “Can’t. Don’t have a condom.”

She flinches, her eyes widening. “Are you serious?”

“Unfortunately, yes.” A brief chuckle escapes my lips which is full of torment and despair.

“Oh my God,” she mumbles, her words muffled by her hand, which shoots up to slap over her mouth.

Her eyes bounce between mine for several heart-clenching seconds before she murmurs, “Are you clean?”

“No,” I mutter, my response short and swift.

The width of her eyes grows as she gasps in a ragged breath.

I stare at her, utterly confused by her shocked reaction.

“Yes, I’m fucking clean. I work with needles, for crying out loud. We get checked regularly. I meant no to your suggestion of going bareback,” I growl when it dawns on me why she’s looking at me in disgust. “I’m not fucking you without a condom.”

In an instant, a mask of anger slips over Clara’s face. “Why? Are you worried I’ll try to pin a pregnancy on you or something?”

“What? No! Don’t be fucking ridiculous.”

She crosses her arms under her mouthwatering breasts. “Then what’s the problem?” The longer I delay in replying, the redder her face lines with anger. She stares at me with her eyes glaring and nostrils flaring. “If I’m clean and you’re clean, I don’t see what theproblem is.”

“Because I don’t fuck without a condom. Period.” My angry voice shrills off the tiled wall and jingles into my ears.

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