Page 21 of His Curvy Castaway Obsession - A Man Who Knows What He Wants

“Robe me. Towel me,” she orders me, and I pass her a towel turning around to make sure she has plenty of privacy, yearning for that steaming hot shower by now, but I’d much prefer her in it with me.

After a moment, I feel the heat of her hand on my shoulder and I spin around, willing her to come to me, wanting to hold her so bad.

“What is it, Zoe? Talk to me, please?”

Her eyes go from mine, then travel up and down my naked body. It’s steamy as hell in the small bathroom, but at close range I can see her and she can see me.

All of me.

“This!” she says, her lower lip trembling. “Look at you, Michael, you’re fucking perfect. And I’m just a freakin’ blob. I saw myself just now. I’ve never seen myself naked okay! Not like that anyway. Jesus!”

She wants to bustle past me, but I catch her, smiling.

“Now, you listen up, Zoe. I thought we’d covered this on that damned yacht.”

She half struggles to escape me, but I can see her eyes flash as I hold her, my arms brushing her breasts under her robe, her nipples like bullets in a second.

“I want you Zoe… not what you look like, which by the way, drives me crazy in case you haven’t noticed.” I tell her with all honesty.

It is true, she drives me wild.

“As for me? I’m cold. And I want to get in the shower with my woman now, that’s you. So c’mon, please?” I beg her, only wanting to hold her even closer now, show her how much she means to me. How beautiful she is.

Zoe takes a deep breath in and a step back, letting her robe fall from her shoulders, then she lets the towel she has underneath drop too, and I watch her eyes come up to meet mine. Hungrier then ever for her.

“You’re perfect, Zoe, and I love you. Don’t ever think anything less for a minute. Y’hear me?” I ask her, then tilt my head in question. She’s starting to laugh.

“What?” I ask her, and then it registers, my dick’s bobbing out in front again, like a lonely monster waking up, seeking its mate. It’s driven to attention by the sight of her, which should be proof enough.

“See? See what you do to me, now get in here will ya, I’m freezing.”

She squeals as I pull her towards me, her hot body and those stiff nipples touching my freezing body. The water feels like frozen ice at first, sharp and jagged. But with Zoe pressed right up against me, it doesn’t take long before I’m all warmed up again.

I know that I’m home.

Chapter Fifteen

Zoe

I don’t know how he does it, but the man’s a magician. Is it his words, is it his stunning body? Maybe. Or is it his eyes and that warm, gentle touch from his huge hands?

Either way, I’ve forgotten about my own insecurities in seconds as soon as he pulls me close to him, the hot water, just right now, running over both of us, like a shared current through the valley of the landscape of both our bodies.

Michael just holds me as I feel his own body go from a shiver to his usual beefcake, medium rare feeling. He moves my hair for me, letting the water run through it and down my back, asking if he can shampoo it sometime.

I nod absently, telling him I only wash my hair a few times a week but feel like seeing myself in the mirror has opened up an old wound. A memory I pushed so far down I told myself I’ve forgotten it.

“What is it Zoe, is it something I did? Tell me so I know what’s wrong, baby?”

“In college…” I hear myself, as if my voice is coming from far away.

“There was a jock, a whole bunch of ‘em…” I continue.

“There usually is,” Michael agrees.

“They all asked me for tutoring at one point, I was good with numbers and they needed help with their midterms to keep their scholarships… They were all so handsome, so friendly… like you”

Michael lifts my face up again, kissing my nose.

“What’d they do?” he asks, his voice getting a little darker as his brow creases.

“There was this party… lots of beer and lots of girls. Pretty girls, like… y’know… cheerleader types.”

I hear him growling again, but it’s not his sexy growl. He’s mad. As mad at my own past as I am and I haven’t even told him what happened yet.

“Well, long story short,” I continue, “I don’t drink, and these girls, they set me up, putting straight ethanol from the chem lab one of them had made up. In my juice, it didn’t taste like much but boy, was I in a bad way in no time.”

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