Page 6 of The Bodyguard's Innocent Obsession
I peer through the gap.
Lachlan’s there, in the bathroom, and his back is turned toward the door. Steam curls up from the glass walls of the shower. And all of him... God, all of him is bare.
His back is to me, broad and muscled and glistening with rivulets of water. He’s braced one hand against the tile, head tilted forward as water rains down over him. Every inch of him is carved from something primal and ancient and male.
His shoulders are wide. His waist is narrow. His legs are thick with muscle. The line of his spine tapers down to...
I gasp before I can stop myself.
His head lifts. Slowly. Like he heard me. And then he turns.
Those dark, hungry eyes land on me. On the crack in the door. He doesn’t say a word, just stares straight at me.
My cheeks are burning. My whole body feels shaky. I know I should step back. Should pull the door shut and walk away.
But instead, I’m rooted in place, like I’ve been hit with some kind of spell.
Unable to help myself, my gaze drops lower, traveling down over the planes of his abs and the cut lines of his hips and... oh, oh god.
He’s hard. His cock is huge and heavy and thick, curving up against his belly. Water slides over every inch of him, glistening on his skin and making the dark hair on his chest glisten.
And then, without breaking eye contact, he reaches for himself and wraps his fist around his cock.
My heart stutters in my chest. My pulse races so fast, my ears roar. I’m frozen in place. Unable to breathe. Unable to move. Unable to do anything except stare at him and feel a rush of liquid heat between my legs.
His hand slides along his cock, slow and steady, his eyes still fixed on me. He’s breathing harder now, and even through the glass, I can see his muscles bunch and tense as he strokes himself.
A shiver rolls through me. I want him. I want him so badly it hurts.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see him lifting his free hand, crooking a finger to invite me closer.
Oh my god.
Before I can think better of it, before I can stop myself, I step into the bathroom and close the door behind me.
He grins. His eyes drag down over my body, and his grin fades into something else. Something fierce and dark and possessive.
As if my body is moving of its own accord, I move even closer, walking to the glass wall of the shower. My heart pounds against my ribs.
He’s so close now, right there, and I can see everything. See the way the muscles in his arm and his stomach flex as he pumps his cock faster. The veins popping under his skin. His hips bucking into his fist, chasing pleasure.
I reach out, running my fingertips over the glass. He reaches up and does the same, mirroring me. Our fingers are almost touching. Separated by nothing but a steamed up pane of glass.
His eyes are dark and locked on mine. His jaw is clenched, his breathing harsh.
God, he’s so hot. And he’s so close.
“Arabella...”
My name is a rasp. A rumble. It hits me right between the legs, making my knees shake.
He’s getting close. His whole body tenses, his muscles rippling under the spray of water, and his jaw goes slack. His hand is pumping his cock so fast, so hard, I can barely see what he’s doing.
Then his eyes lock on mine, and he grunts.
I gasp as his cock pulses in his fist. Ropes of cum burst out of him, streaking across the glass wall between us. The sight is filthy. Beautiful. Raw.
I’ve never seen a man come before. I can’t believe he just let me watch.
