Page 60 of Mad Rivals
What if I finally found something worth taking a risk on?
CHAPTER 24: Kennedy Van Buren
I Didn’t Peg Him as a Romantic
Well.
Wow.
I can’t think coherently enough to come up with more than that.
Wow.
That was…
That was something else.
That isn’t even in the same league as the two losers I was with before. Madden Bradley isn’t just a professional athlete set to take over his father’s real estate development business when he retires from playing football. He’s also apparently a sex god.
I’ve never been banged like that. I’ve never had someone with such a dirty mouth say such naughty things to me in the heat of the moment. And if they did, it came off as weird or cheesy.
Not with Madden. Not when he knows what he’s doing and has the most perfect equipment that he definitely knows how to use. Skillfully. With expertise.
He knew exactly what to do…and he did it. It’s like he knew all the secrets to my body. Secrets maybe I hadn’t even uncovered.
He understood the assignment. He knew. He seems to know me down to my soul, and even though we still have a long way to go to really know anything about each other aside fromsurface stuff, it feels like we’ll be able to get there quickly and easily since we have this intimate knowledge of each other already.
I’m half asleep when I feel the bed dip, and I’m suddenly lying on pillows rather than on Madden’s chest. I suppose I should get up and use the bathroom. Ideally a shower would be nice to rinse off after not one but two romps with this man.
But I’m just so deliciously, achingly exhausted. I don’t want to move.
And I don’t have to.
I hear water running, and a few moments later, I’m woken with feather-light kisses along my arm. My eyes flutter open, and I see Madden there. I swear, I have heart eyes as I look at him, and I was sure,sosure, that he was all wrong for me.
I’m starting to change my mind.
He hauls me into his arms, and a moment later, he’s setting me in his luxurious bathtub.
It’s filled with bubbles that smell like him, and he has the jets of the whirlpool tub already running as he sets me into the warm, soapy water. The jets are heaven on my exhausted body, massaging me in all the right places.
He lit a few candles, and my glass of wine is filled again and sitting on the side of the tub. He also dropped off a glass of water in case I needed any, and honestly, that sounds more necessary than more wine at this point.
I didn’t peg Madden Bradley as a romantic, but here we are. He squirts some of the body wash on a washcloth, and he runs it over the parts of my body not submerged in the water. I lean my head back on the towel he propped there, and I swear I could fall asleep in here.
He pulls one of my legs out of the water and washes it, taking time to wash and massage the aching feet that were jammed into those heels all night. He does the other leg, too, and then each of my arms. He helps me lean forward to wash my back, andthen he washes my front. He reaches into the water to run the washcloth between my legs.
It’s sweet and passionate at the same time. He’s taking care of me after he put my body through the wringer, and all I can do is lie my head back and freaking enjoy it.
“I’m going to take a quick shower,” he says. “Do you want to get in bed or watch from the tub?”
“Watch,” I say immediately, and he turns on the water, and I swear to God, it’s like watching one of those erotic car or cologne or men’s underwear commercials where the camera stops just short of the goods…except I get the full view of this very entertaining show.
He’s not even trying to be sexual as he simply washes himself, and yet as he closes his eyes and leans back so his neck is corded as he rinses suds from his body…
Yeah. It’s sexual. I’m tempted to reach into the water and rub myself to another orgasm. Or let one of those tub jets work its magic on my clit.
I don’t.
