Page 73 of A Fine Line

Tonyleadsmedownwinding hallways and up and down stairs. It seems the facility we’re borrowing from Matt’s contact has every amenity imaginable…if you can find your room. I was assigned a room on the far side of the building, and although it’s not fancy, it looks comfortable enough, and it has an ensuite bathroom.

I expect Tony to deposit me there and then return to take part in the planning, but he surprises me when he shuts and locks the door and then disappears into the bathroom. Water comes on in the shower, and he’s back in the bedroom, yanking his shirt over his head while I’m standing in the middle of the room, awkwardly twisting my fingers.

He stops a few feet from me and cocks his head at me. “What are you doing? Strip.”

My heart skitters in my chest and sweat prickles up my spine at the thought of showering with him. Which is kind of fucked up, considering we’ve fucked before. I sucked the man’s cock in an airplane lavatory, but being stripped bare under the fall of water without so much as the illusion of a mask to cover my features is scary.

I continue to stand there silently until he narrows his eyes and closes the distance between us. He cups my cheeks between his hands, his fingers pressing into my hairline as he looks into my eyes and says, “You’re welcome to shower alone if you’re more comfortable, but I figured you might be kind of stiff, and I could help you.”

I instantly relax at his words, some of the tension seeping out of my bones at the reassurance that I don’t have to do anything I don’t want to do. It’s not that I believe he’d force me, but the lifelong inclination to constantly bend overrides what I know about the man.

I swallow past the lump in my throat and then reply, “No, it’s okay. I was just…” I pause and then stand there with my mouth open, unsure of what to say.

He releases his grip on my face and steps into me until the fronts of our bodies are touching, his arms coming around my waist to hold me tightly against him. “You can use that safeword at any time with me, Carolina. I don’t care if I’m offering you a snack that you don’t feel like eating or you don’t want to watch the dumb, shit show I want to watch. One word is all it takes, and it goes away, or it stops.”

I nod, now unable to speak because of the giant lump in my throat, and he searches my eyes for a moment and then releases me. He takes my hand in his and leads me toward the bathroom that’s filling up with steam.

I’ve never been in the shower with someone intentionally. As in, I wanted to be there. I’ve never known a shower scenario where two people found enjoyment in each other, even if it was just because they were sharing the same space. Tony must recognize something in my face because he comes back and asks, “You’re lost. Do I need to find you?”

His words break the last bit of tension in my chest, and I chuckle and whisper, “Yes. I think I’d like that.”

“What do you need?”

I pause, contemplating his question, unsure how to answer, when he adds, “Do you want to lead or follow, sweetheart?”

“Follow.”

“Do you want gentle?” I shrug, so he adds, “Hard?” I shrug again, and he laughs. “How about a mix of both, then?”

I smile at this, nodding as he pulls my shirt over my head. I’m wearing someone else’s clothing sans undergarments, so it doesn’t take much work before I’m nude in the middle of the steamy room, and he’s frowning at the bruises on my body.

I ignore his grumbling, reaching out and yanking on his jeans until he finally turns his focus back to getting naked. Then he pulls me into the shower, and the last of my trepidation swirls down the drain.

I expect him to push me back against the shower wall and get right to ravaging me, but he doesn’t. Instead, he places me directly under the water, his fingers firm as he pushes my hair back from my face, directing the angle of my head so water doesn’t trickle over my forehead.

I watch his face as he methodically washes and conditions my hair before grabbing a washcloth and bar of soap, working a lather into the cloth, and then running it over my back and down my arms. He’s completely focused on the job, his hand holding the lathered cloth, not lingering as he washes every inch of my skin, and I take the opportunity to stare at him unabashedly.

He leans down, running the cloth along each of my legs, and then kneels and washes between my legs gently before sitting back and allowing the water to wash over me, rinsing me clean. He flips the shower dial until the stream of water from above stops, and then steam swirls around us.

“Just keep staring, sweetheart,” he says as he stands, his eyes meeting mine as he rasps, “Having your eyes on me gets me hard. Gives me ideas of what you could be doing while looking at me like that.”

“Looking at you like what?”

“Blatant want, desire, hunger,” he whispers against my lips, the cloth dropping from his hands onto the floor of the shower. “Like you want to be my sweet little whore for the rest of my life.”

My heart stutters in my chest, my breath catching as his arms come around me, sliding over my wet skin until they’re locked around my waist, and he’s lifting me so we’re eye to eye. I go to speak, but he leans close, stopping me with his lips on mine, his tongue entering my mouth without hesitation or gentleness. He takes what he wants, angling his head and pushing me back against the wall so I have nowhere to go but into him.

He kisses me until I’m limp and sobbing into his mouth, my arms around his neck, clutching at him. He drags his lips across my cheek and along my jaw, zeroing in on my neck with a tactical intensity that has me moaning and gasping.

My fingers tangle in his hair, and he moves downward, his lips, teeth, and tongue a hot trail over my shoulder and along the outer curve of my breast. I yank his hair, and he laughs, his tongue lazily teasing my sensitive skin, so I yank again, shoving my breast against his mouth until he closes his lips around my aching nipple and sucks.

The sensation sends a jolt of pleasure to my pussy, and I buck my hips against him, wanting nothing more in that moment than for him to fill the empty ache between my legs.

He pays the same attention to my other breast, kissing and licking along each curve before finally sucking my nipple into his mouth, grazing it with his teeth before releasing it and moving further down my body. He kisses over my stomach, along my hips, and partway down my thigh before moving his focus between my legs.

He kneels at my feet, places a kiss at the top of my pubic bone, then goes lower and presses his face into my pussy, inhaling deeply before lapping at my clit. I tense slightly, suddenly self-conscious about my lack of grooming, but then he looks up at me, and the look of absolute pleasure on his face eases my fears.

He nudges my legs and says, “Lean back, sweetheart. Spread your legs for me and let me show you what it’s like to have a man worship you.”

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