She gathered that I had become a slave for her tender body after only one night together. More proof that I was acting like a love-sick buffoon. She was using her influence over me to manipulate the situation because Maya wasn’t willing to play ball, not about her family.
“Maya,” I wheezed, “don’t think for a second that our conversation from earlier is over just because you did that.”
Maya didn’t respond. Instead, she rose, turned on her heels, and adjourned to the bedroom.
Mybedroom.
She left the door ajar. Unzipping her blue dress and letting it pool around her ankles, she revealed a blue push-up bra that highlighted her cleavage. Her matching underwear had pencil-thin straps on the sides, allowing an unfiltered view from thigh to breast and that slight curve of her abdomen. She was toned and so goddamn silky smooth all over.
I swallowed.
Without a backward glance, Maya tiptoed to the adjoined bathroom—leaving that door open as well—and filled the tub with steaming water and a concoction of bath products.
Looping her arms back, she unhooked the blue bra, the straps falling away. Firm breasts jutted out, nipples standing to attention and leaving my mouth dry at the sight. As if she hadn’t tortured me enough, Maya curved her thumbs under the waistband of her underwear, slowly sliding it down her thighs.
Her eyes flipped back to meet mine, a silent invitation written in them.
A cynical part of me knew better, warning that Maya was doing all of this to distract me. Yet, I followed, mesmerized, letting her win because I didn’t have the power to saynoto her.
The conclusion was drawn even before I stepped into the damn tub and pulled her to my lap, watching her ride my cock as water ran down her lathered breasts. There was nothing more I’d learn about Maya unless she relented, and quite possibly, I didn’t know her at all.
Chapter 8
She stood with a mugin hand—very much resembling a beggar—before the second pot of coffee had even simmered.
“You look like Oliver Twist.Please, sir, I want some more,”I mimicked the desperate way her hands clung to the cup with a thick English accent. Last night, we were up for hours, my appetite for her never weaning. Probably the reason why Maya was inhaling the java this morning. “Do you really need more caffeine in your system?”
Maya smiled sheepishly. “I’m useless without coffee.”
“Number one drug in the world,” I said, pouring her yet another cup.
She sighed contentedly while my attention diverted to the black yoga pants hugging her thighs and the ribbed tank top—simple but sexy. The outfit made her look younger than the dresses she had sported so far, but it was no less erotic.
I wondered if it’d be unsafe to grope her while she was nursing a piping hot beverage. She was this shiny new toy, and I was the boy who wanted to figure out all of her features and buttons. But surely, I could go five minutes without mauling her.
Turned out that I couldn’t. With a tight grip around her waist, I lifted her onto my lap, taking a seat at the kitchen table.