Page 103 of Give & Take

And yet when I open my blinds to see her standing there holding her towel over her still-dewy body, I nearly come right there in my pants. In fact, I think I do a little.

Still, my dick remains so hard it’s fucking agony. Delicious, glorious agony.

I pick up my phone to text her.

RAPH: Drop the towel.

Lana glances down at her phone.

She pulls the towel tighter, raising an eyebrow.

So it’s going to be like this.

RAPH: Please,Sunshine.

She glances at her screen and I see the little twist of a smile.

SUNSHINE: Only because you asked nicely.

She drops the towel.

“Fuck me,” I say out loud. I press my hands against the glass, drinking her in.

Her body…it’s everything. A study in contradictions. A story, told in shapes and curves and lines. I see her sexiness first, because I’m so fucking riled up—the curve of her breasts, the dip in her waist. The damp curls between her legs and the roundness of that belly and those hips I fucking love.

But I see the other parts of her too. Her motherhood. The strength and power of carrying and bearing children. The pearlescent stretch marks on her abdomen, a testament to life itself.

She’s like the subject of the most beautiful paintings in the world. Sagas could be written on her behalf. Suddenly, for someone who’s been called the most verbose man I’ve ever met, I’m speechless.

The best I can do is tell her that.

I dial her number. “I’m fucking speechless, Lana,” I say, when she holds her phone up to her ear.

“So we’re done here?”

I bang my forehead on the glass. “If you want to stop, stop at any time,” I say. “But if you want to…”

My cock surges in my pants. “Fuck.”

“What’s that, Raph?”

She’s enjoying this.

I adjust myself yet again, seeking relief. “If you want to show me what you did, I’d die a happy man. But like I said, you don’t have to do this at all if you?—”

“Stop talking.”

I laugh softly. “Yes ma’am.” The glass between us has given her strength.

I’m ob-fucking-sessed.

“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t very much want to,” she says. “I wouldn’t have done it in the first place.”

She dips her free hand between her legs, eyes on me.

I watch, rapt. It’s the most delicious kind of torture having two sheets of glass between us. Look but don’t touch. It’s a game I’ve been very good at, but would absolutely fail if it wasn’t for that barrier.

As her fingers disappear between her legs, she lets out a gasp.

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