Page 223 of Unexpected Heroine

“Steam” by Ty Herndon.

It’s an older song, so I’m shocked she knows it. However, country music often has a timeless quality to it. And my Lettie never fails to surprise me.

I’m drooling by the time she hits the long, drawn-out notes of the chorus.

Without conscious thought, I snake my hand under my boxers to grab a fistful of my dick. A hissing sound leaves me at first contact.

If only I could talk to her. Guide her movements.

First, I’d tell her to twist her sopping wet hair and rest it on top of her head so I could see more of her delicate neck. Then I’d have her reach above her head with both arms. Leaving one arm extended, the other would make a slow descent, gliding her fingertips sensually over her forearm, bicep, and down to her shoulder until it trailed across her neck and between her breasts. The other hand could then drift lower. Not too fast. I’d tell her to make me wait for each subtle movement. Build the anticipation.

My hand starts stroking my throbbing cock, gliding up and down in long, slow movements. Without lube, it’s a little rough. The pain heightens the pleasure, though.

Next, I’d have Lettie cup her breasts, squeezing her nipples between her thumbs and index fingers. She’d throw her head back, awash with pleasure, and release one of those sexy as fuck whimpers. The ones I loved to catch in my mouth.

Although she’d want to press her thighs together for friction, I wouldn’t let her because we’d only be getting started.

If I could talk to her, that is.

Wait a fucking minute. Nothing is stopping me. A few clicks and it would be like I was in the room with her.

But I like it this way too. Watching her take control of her pleasure, not needing anyone to guide her.

As the song nears the conclusion, her singing voice becomes strained. The words clipped. Breathing choppy. I have a good idea why, but I can’t be sure since the glass below her waist level has become harder to see through as the shower has progressed.

Almost as if she’s reading my mind, one of her palms reaches out to wipe the glass. In smooth, long strokes, she clears the fog away, giving me a perfect view of her other hand. It’s smacked dab between her legs. Her fingertips move in small circles, swirling and teasing, while her hips buck into her hand.

Damn that’s fucking hot.

My fist works my cock punishingly, faster and faster, rubbing my thumb over the tip at the top of each stroke. On the screen, Lettie’s keens pitch higher and louder.

Don’t you dare come yet, sugar bear.

Ever the brat, she defies my silent command. No more than a second later, she slaps her free hand on the tile wall and cries out in pleasure as a climax rocks through her body.

Damn. That was fast.

Her moans and bliss-filled whimpers sail from the speakers, heading right to my balls and making them draw up with a need to come.

She’s still coming down from her orgasm while I’m building to mine.

Before I reach the peak, she cuts off the water and slings open the glass door. My movements slow, delaying my release.

Looking straight into the camera, she reaches a few inches to the right of her phone to grab a towel. Making no move to cover her body, she squeezes water out of her hair. She trails her tongue along her lips, dabbing past them to lick away some of the water droplets. Then she slowly brings the towel around her body, tucking one side under her arm.

She grabs the phone from its towel rack perch, then holds it a foot or so away from her face as she walks into the adjoining bedroom. She’s humming along to the music still playing. I have no idea what song is on at this point and couldn’t care less.

With a nibble of her lip, she props the phone up on what I’m guessing is a tall dresser. She tightens her towel again and reaches into the top drawer.

When her hand comes out, she’s holding a slim pink vibrator.

Then she fucking winks at her phone.

She is absolutely going to kill me.

Chapter 40

Gold star for Lettie

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