Page 56 of Second Swing
“Please, I can’t.”
“You can, Dove.” His voice is husky as his dick rubs against that spot again, hitting it over and over as I play with myself.
“Oh my God. Oh m-my G–Clinton!” I scream my release, stars glowing behind my eyes as my body hums. I don’t have to wonder what Clint is thinking because he’s lost in our shared climax. He holds me while I get a steady footing, his chest heaving against my back.
“You’re perfect. So incredibly perfect.” His voice is soft, as if he meant to think it rather than say it out loud. He trails open-mouth kisses over my neck. Clinton moves then, grabbing the washcloth to bathe me, a satisfied smile clear on his handsome face.
“Come here, Paloma. Let me take care of you.”
He washes me thoroughly, even re-conditions my hair. Working the leave-in conditioner into my hair as he works it through each curl, creating chunky ringlets.
“I’m surprised you have leave-in,” I say, enjoying his fingers caressing my scalp.
He chuckles under his breath before responding, “My mama taught me right. Always take care of yourself and that includes my hair.”
The thought of him sitting with a hair mask on flits through my mind, and it's hot, in the way only Clint can be hot. “You enjoying this, handsome?” I ask him, wanting to know if he is enjoying our shared experience as much as I am.
“Of course I am. Taking care of you is always going to be my pleasure.”
“Always?”
“Every single day with you is a gift to me.” He tugs on my hair playfully and quickly kisses me. I watch his muscled ass flex as he turnsthe water off and exits the shower. Grabbing a fluffy, white robe from his towel warmer, he opens it wide, and I pause, unsure if his robe is even going to fit me. Clinton notices my hesitation. “What’s wrong?”
“Is your robe going to fit me?” It's always been a struggle to find towels that close around my wide hips, and I do not plan on squeezing into a too-small robe.
“I got this one special for you, Dove.” Trusting him, I eagerly step into what feels like a warm cloud, loving the fact that it wraps fully around my body.
I tie the belt, stand on my tiptoes, and press my lips to his before pointing at the warmer. “That thing is incredible, and I absolutely need to get one for my place.”
He chuckles, and we both exit the bathroom, him grabbing underwear and sweats for himself before handing me a new pair of his boxers with a T-shirt.
Laughing, I turn to him. “You know, it’s always so sexy when the girls wear their boyfriend’s shirts, but this one isn’t giving the same energy.” Though it’s slightly longer because of his height, it fits snug around my hips and breasts.
“Looks perfect to me.” He shrugs, heated desire swirling in his gaze. Giving my ample booty a love tap, Clint continues, “I’m not letting you tempt me into not feeding you. In the kitchen we go.”
He taps the counter, and I hop up, watching him open his lower cabinets. The more ingredients he pulls from the pantry, the more excited I become. He reaches under the counter for one more item, and I lose it. “You’re making me waffles?”
I slide off the counter, excitement and hunger battling inside of me. He mixes together the flour, eggs, baking soda, and vanilla, but what isgoing to make this really fucking good is the buttermilk he pours in.I may just have to marry this man.
Rubbing butter into the hot crevices of the waffle maker, he says, “That’s my master plan.” He taps my nose with a bit of flour, and I am in shock. I can’t believe I said it out loud.
“Can I help?”
“Sure, Dove, come on over. You can pour the batter in as I get started on the bacon.”
29
Lou:Time for a recovery shot, maybe?
Chuck:Looks more like a step backwards to me.
Lou:Every attempt to make amends just deepens the plot...and the mess.
Chuck:Sometimes, the best recovery is learning to laugh at yourself.
Even with the slightly too-small shirt, her hips sway to the music playing through the speakers. She adds a small dab of butter and pours batter into the waffle maker. I loved Paloma almost a decade ago, and I never stopped. Seeing her dance and sing as she makes breakfast in my kitchen alters my brain chemistry.
I don’t know if she realized what she said out loud, but she is right about one thing—I’m going to marry her.
