Page 20 of The Temptation
I found the open bottle of my shampoo, discarded haphazardly on the tiles in the shower recess, this morning. That told me one thing: he used it the night before to get himself off. That knowledge made me feel almost giddy.
Big-O and I will be ready and waiting for him tonight. If round two fails, I’ll have to be more creative. I could always resort to nudism, I suppose. I wonder how he’d react if he came into the kitchen and found me cooking in nothing butan apron. A cheeky smile curves my lips as I mentally add that to the list.
I’m currently leaning against the kitchen doorway, watching Romeo spray the splashback with cleaning solution before diligently wiping it down with a cloth.
This man is a clean freak. He doesn’t just do the dishes after every meal. He dries them, puts them away, and then wipes down the entire space. There is nothing sexier than seeing him doing housework. It’s like domestic porn, the perfect thing to put me in the mood for my next mission.
“I’m going to head to bed,” I say.
Romeo glances at me from over his shoulder. “Umm … okay. Can I count on you to behave tonight?”
I lift one shoulder as I reach up and twirl a long strand of hair around my finger. “I’ll try,” I reply, giving him my best impression of innocent doe eyes. “But misbehaving is so much more fun.”
I roll my lips when his eyebrows pinch together. “I mean it, Lucia, this shit has to stop.”
“So, you’re allowed to pleasure yourself, but I’m not? That’s a little one-sided, don’t you think?”
I hear a growl permeate in the back of his throat as he turns around and continues wiping down the countertop with a lot more vigour than before. His broad shoulders are now taut, and for a moment, I actually feel bad for him, but I’m doing this forus.
This man is undoubtedly the best thing that has ever happened to me, but what he fails to realise is that I could be the best thing that’s ever happened to him as well, if he’d just giveusthe chance.
I will love, care for, and protect this man like no woman before me has.
I glance at the clock beside my bed when I finally hear Romeo’s heavy footsteps passing my room. It’s nearly 2 am. Did he stay up late hoping I’d fall asleep?
It sucks to be him if he was.
Granted, I’ve managed to read three quarters of my book while I waited, and I was starting to wonder if he was ever coming to bed, but I would’ve stayed up all night if need be.
The story I’m currently reading is a slow burn, and the hero and heroine are just now getting their shit together. I’m dying to know what happens next, but Damien and Rosie will have to wait. I have more important things to do, like breaking my future husband.
I carefully slide the bookmark between the pages and place it on my bedside table as I reach for Big-O, dropping it beside me. My hands slide under the covers; then I hook my thumbs in the side of my underwear and wiggle them over my hips.
I send a short, silent prayer to the sex gods above as I switch her on.Please let this work tonight.
Like yesterday, I start slow, using the lowest setting. It will be a tedious task because tonight I want to go all in. I never got to finish up last night, so I’m wound tight.
My lady parts have been pulsing all day, begging for a release, especially after watching Romeo clean the kitchen earlier. I’m unsure why that works for me, but it’s an effective aphrodisiac. It sends my pheromones into overdrive.
I move to the next setting, amping up my vocals as I do. The sound is enough to drown out his movements, because when my bedroom door suddenly swings open so violently, hitting the adjoining wall with a loud thud, I almost jump out of my skin.
“I fucking warned you,” he growls, stalking towards the bed. He looks furious. Hot and menacing. His jaw is clenched, and his eyes burn, but it doesn’t intimidate me.
I spent my childhood staring down the butt of my father’s gun, so I’m ready to take whatever punishment he’s prepared to dish out. Should I get up on my knees and beg him to spank me? I would be so down for that.
He stops at the edge of the bed, looming over me. There’s something else behind the fury, something darker. Desperation maybe, or fear. For a long second, we stare at each other, the silence between us thick with everything we haven’t said.
I suck in a sharp breath and hold it when he extends his arm. “Hand it over,” he snaps.
I’ve never been one to follow orders, but I don’t think twice before slapping Big-O into the palm of Romeo’s large hand.
My heart’s pounding like a war drum in my chest as I lie there like an inexperienced fool. This is what I wanted all along, but I never stopped to consider what I’d do if the plan actually worked.
I’ve read hundreds of books that include countless steamy scenes, but when my mind scrambles for something sexy to say or do, I come up with absolutely nothing.
I want him to take the lead. To tug back the covers and bury that handsome face of his between my legs.
I see Romeo’s nostrils flare as he suddenly turns, like he’s ready to leave, which has me immediately snapping into action.
