Page 62 of Follow Me Down

Chapter Fifteen

Fallon

––––––––

My eyes dart open andI quickly sit up, the remnants of yesterday hitting me like a bolt of lightning. My father showing up here. Titus asking me to stay. It’s like some sort of crazy dream. I blink around the near dark room before my eyes land on Titus laying on his back, arm tucked behind his head, sleeping soundly.

He’s so beautiful it almost hurts to look at him. And while beautiful isn’t a word I would normally use to describe Titus; gorgeous, commanding, sexy as sin, being the first things that come to mine. Right now, beautiful is exactly how he looks.

Glancing at the clock on the bedside table I see that it’s right after six in the morning. Not sure when I fell asleep, or how on earth I feel so wide awake this early, I slip out from under the covers and carefully climb from the bed.

Deciding I’m in need of a toothbrush and a shower, I step into the bathroom and quietly close the door behind me.

Catching sight of myself in the mirror, I have to do a double take. My hair is knotted, and what little mascara I applied yesterday seems to have accumulated under my puffy eyes. I look awful.

I brush my teeth for longer than necessary, my mind still swirling around everything that happened yesterday. Pulling back the shower curtain, I turn the water on as hot as it will go and let it heat up before stripping out of my clothes and stepping inside.

I wet my hair and lather in some shampoo, not realizing I’m no longer alone in the bathroom until the shower curtain moves along the pole.

Peeking one eye open, I catch sight of Titus’ ink splattered chest right before he slides into the shower with me.

“Hey,” he grumbles, his hands going into my hair as he helps me rinse. “You’re up early. You feeling okay?”

I wipe my face with my hands and open my eyes.

“Yeah. Sorry if I woke you.”

“You didn’t. The bed just felt empty without you.” He shrugs, grabbing the conditioner from me before squirting a large dollop into his palm. “Turn around.” His hands go into my hair as soon as I do, working the conditioner from root to tip.

“Mmm.” I tilt my head back further, loving the feeling of his fingers against my scalp. He massages for a few minutes before having me turn back around to rinse.

Laying a light kiss to my bottom lip as soon as the conditioner is rinsed, Titus moves on to the body wash. Squeezing some onto a washcloth, he works it into a lather before pressing it to my shoulder.

He watches me intently as he slides the rag across my collar bone and down the side of my breast. My teeth sink into my bottom lip.

One small touch and I’m already craving the feeling of him inside of me so badly I’m desperate. When he nudges my legs open with his knee and slides the washcloth across the too sensitive area between my thighs, my need for him increases tenfold.

Titus is laser focused, putting all his concentration into washing me.

I, on the other hand, don’t have his type of self-control. Which is why when he moves to pull the washcloth away, I grab his forearm, keeping it in place.

Reaching between us, I peel the soapy rag from his hand so that he’s touching me skin to skin. He lets out a shaky breath and meets my gaze.

Seconds later, our lips crash together.

I moan when his mouth opens and his tongue slides against mine. Two fingers dip inside of me at the same time.

“I want you, Titus,” I pant against his lips. “Right now.” I press down on his hand, needing to feel his fingers deeper.

“I’m all yours.” He smiles as he withdraws his hand and spins me around so that my back is pressed to his front. Titus slides the shower curtain open and retrieves a condom from the top drawer of the vanity. I’m learning this man keeps condoms everywhere. I’m still not sure how I feel about that. I try not to think about all the women who have likely come before me and instead focus on this moment. On him. On me. On how he makes me feel.

Closing the curtain, I hear the rip of the condom wrapper and my body sings in anticipation. “But I’m going to warn you, I’m not going to be gentle.” He presses his hand against the middle of my back and guides me forward so that I’m slightly bent, my backside sticking out.

“I don’t want you to be.” I bite my lip and suck in a deep breath when he lines himself at my entrance. I cry out as he pushes inside, going as deep as he can, planting himself there for a long moment. “Titus.” I push back, urging him to move.

“I just want to feel you for a minute. Fuck, Fallon, you feel so damn good.” The gravelly way he says it nearly brings me to my knees.

As desperate as I am, I let him have his moment, not able to deny how incredible it feels to have him resting heavily inside of me.

---