Page 48 of Oblivion

“I booked you an appointment with a course counselor at ten thirty a.m. They’ll go through the courses you missed this semester and help you plan how you can catch up or if you’ll need to graduate late.”

Clearing my throat, I push away the comparison of Drew and Evan. “Thank you,” I croak.

“You’re welcome. Now let’s take a shower, then you can pick something to wear that makes you look nineteen, not forty. But hurry up, because Hunter is making your favorite for breakfast.”

“I’d rather shower alone,” I say sullenly.

His laugh is full of amusement. He doesn’t even have to speak for me to know there’s no way I’ll be taking a shower without him.

The bathroom attached to my room is nice but small, and once both of us are enclosed in the shower cubicle, there’s hardly any room for us to move.

“Hmm, this is kind of tight,” he says on a laugh, flashing me a wide grin that I’ve never seen on him before.

I’ve seen him smile, but it’s always been tempered, like he was holding something back. Now, the grin on his face spreads from ear to ear, lighting him up and forcing me to have to fight the urge to grin back.

“I have an idea,” he announces, lifting me off my feet and filling me with his cock, pinning me to his body with his arm beneath my butt.

“Evan,” I shriek, grabbing his shoulders and holding on tight.

“Now we have more room,” he says with a wink.

Instead of washing me, he hands me bottles of product and watches as I wash my hair, then my body, working my hands between us to clean as much of my skin as I can while impaled on him.

“Now me,” he says, dipping his chin and motioning for me to lather his skin in the soap I’m still holding in my hands.

“Why don’t you let me down, and I’ll get all of your cum off me, then get out of your way,” I suggest, with a sassy arch of my eyebrow.

“No.”

“No?” I question.

“No, so get on with it, or we’ll miss breakfast.”

Huffing dramatically, I coat his muscled chest, running my hands over the ornate key he has tattooed over his ribs and the ugly yet beautiful anatomical heart he has inked over his own. Once I’m done, he passes me the shampoo and exhales contentedly when I massage the suds into his hair.

After he’s rinsed his hair, he lifts me off his dick, his jaw ticking at my wince, and carefully lowers me to my feet. Before I can stop him, he sinks to his knees and gently, oh, so gently washes my pussy, cleaning me like I’m a fragile masterpiece he can’t bear to break.

It takes far longer than it should for him to deem meclean, but once he’s finished, he turns off the water, wraps me in a towel, then steps out of the bathroom first, dropping down onto my bed, his heated eyes following my every move.

“Are you going to get dressed?” I ask.

“We’ll both go down to my room once you’re ready.”

“I’ll get ready faster if you’re not staring at me.”

“You like it when my eyes are on you,” he quips, a knowing smirk tipping his lips.

“If you sit here and supervise me getting ready, I’ll put on the tiniest clothes I own.”

He shrugs. “Go for it. I’ll enjoy ripping them from you and coating you in my cum.” His words are crude, but his tone is calm and relaxed, like he’s telling me he’d like milk in his coffee, not that he’ll defile me with his cum if my outfit doesn’t meet his approval.

“So, you’re dictating what I wear now?” I snap.

“No. You can wear what you please, but if you look too sexy, I’ll just spend the day following you around making a list of all the people whose lives I’m going to ruin.”

“You don’t have anything better to do with your day than that?” I snarl.

“I’m rich as fuck and two years ahead of you at school, I have all the time in the world,” he mocks, arching an eyebrow at me in challenge.

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