Page 35 of Bad Seed
A quick slap strikes my ass, no pain, all shock. He nods in the direction of a door. “Bathroom’s through there.” With that, he takes off, still bare naked.
I cling to the door, watching his ass as my brainstem melts down my spinal column. I got that. Not just got, but that gave me more orgasms than I’ve had in my life.
I don’t mean in one night. I mean total. It was incredible.
And now it’s over.
Keeping my smile on, I plunge into his master bathroom. I brace myself for either a sterile toilet and shower combo like a hardware store floor model, or wet towels piled everywhere. There aren’t really any feminine touches in the decorating department, but he’s got jars scattered across the dual sinks. Creams for hair, creams for face. I turn into Nancy Drew and look each one over as if they could give me some insight into Mr. Aubry Gene.
What makes him the kind of man to carry an epipen to a bar?
Why does he save girls he doesn’t even know?
What the hell gives him the stamina to go seven times in one night? If it’s a deal with Satan, sign me up. I’m not doing much with my soul anyway.
Other than learning his voluminous hair isn’t entirely genetic, I’m at a loss. So he’s a rich, kind, cat-owning ex-bouncer who likes brown girls with thick thighs and bellies. How cliché.
I want to laugh, but my brain can’t stop churning over the clues. He’s perfect. For fuck sake, he can cook.
This bathroom is so big there isn’t a shower curtain. Instead, the whole corner that could be its own room is the shower. I strain to turn on the nozzle, uncertain what’s about to come out. Could be champagne.
As the water hits the tiles, I pull my dress off over my head and catch sight of myself in the mirror. Oh, I look like I got hit by a truck that was carrying nitroglycerin. My under eyes are black with exhaustion, my cheeks ruddy from either strain or some rosacea due to scruff burn. But I can’t stop smiling.
Wait. What’s that?
I take a step toward his mirror and the smile vanishes.
Red splotches dot across my breasts and down my cleavage.What in the…?
“Ah!”Why did I touch one?
The second the itching pain sears through my nerves, I know what they are. Hives. Probably my immune system still panicking after my last scare. It can take days for it to calm down.
I’d forget them entirely knowing I have some hydrocortisone cream in the medicine cabinet, but I’m not at home. I’m in a delicious man’s shower with weird red patches over my breasts.Come on, body. Can’t you just be cool for once?
Though if anything of me is going to scare him off, I could probably handle my finicky immune system doing it.
After testing the spray with my hand, I walk into the shower. When the rain fall lands on my hives, it stings like tiny pinpricks. I reach for the handle to turn it down, before a strange flush rises from inside of me.
Aubry standing before me, panting after he’s tongue fucked me. Cock in one hand, stroking himself as he cries out and explodes all over me.
Instead of turning the shower down, I crank it up. The water hits and I moan, first from the pain, then the rush right to my pussy. Driving a man mad with just the taste of me—fuck. My fingers run down my thigh, brushing over my soaked hair to part their way in.
No. I’m here to get clean, then get to work. I should not be doing that in his shower.
Oh god. How many times does he jack off in here?
Nope. Focus.I grab the soap and pause.
How does he smell so green? Like a new garden in the sunlight?
Is this it?
I take a whiff but all I smell is soap. There isn’t even a hint of wolverine claws or extreme wind surfing.Fine then. Keep your mysteries.
After lathering the suds on my hands, I move to put the soap back. An arm reaches to take it.
I yelp and crash back into the bare chest of Aubry.
