Page 15 of Six Month Wife
His erection lies heavy against his abs, and he does not attempt to cover himself. My skin goes hot. My mouth dries out, then waters again. Normally, in this type of situation, I would reach for a towel to give us both a chance to reset.
But I don’t.
Instead, I stand there, fingers frozen, heart racing, waiting to see what he’ll do next.
4
Parker
I'm not exactlysure what to do, but I'm oddly not self-conscious about it. Not when I’m this hard. Not when she’s still standing there, looking like that.
She doesn’t move either, telling me she is as shell-shocked as I am.
Her eyes flicker down, pause, and then come back up to my eyes. It's fast, like maybe I won’t notice the way she’s looking at me.
But I do. I notice everything. The quick hitch in her breath, the way her hand tightens slightly around the bottle, the heat rolling off her skin like it’s catching fire from mine.
She’s trying to hold the line. I can see it in the way her jaw sets, the way she doesn’t flinch or turn, but also doesn’t step closer.
So I break the silence. I'm quiet and careful. I don’t want to spook her, but I sure as hell don’t want to miss this moment if she’s feeling even half of what I am.
“You okay?”
Her mouth parts. No sound at first. Then, a barely audible, “Mmm hmm.”
I reach out, slowly and deliberately, and find her wrist. Her skin is warm, and her pulse is rapid. She doesn’t pull back.
“Tell me to stop,” I say, voice low. Honest. “If this isn’t where you want this to go.”
She doesn’t. Instead, she steps closer.
Her fingers skim the edge of the table, but her eyes stay locked on mine. There's a moment, right there, where everything else blurs out. The low hum of the diffuser. The lavender in the air. The soft music. It's all background noise now.
When her hand lands on my chest, it’s with purpose.
And when she leans in, her mouth catches mine like she’s been waiting for a signal from me. That's when I know we’re past the point of pretending this was ever just a massage.
She tastes like mint and silk and something I can’t name, but want more of.
A lot more.
Her mouth is soft and hot and searching, and it wrecks me faster than I can keep up.
This wasn’t the plan. But with her tongue thrashing against mine and her hand on my bare chest, I’d burn the whole plan to the ground.
She deepens the kiss, shifting closer, her knee bumping the edge of the table. I reach for her waist, pulling her in gently, testing how far she’ll go.
When she doesn’t pull away, I get bolder. My hand slides lower, resting on the curve of her hip.
I’m so hard it hurts.
She kisses like she’s been starving for something real. Something reckless. And for the first time in a long time,I’m not thinking about work or the will or the stupid timeline Roger dropped on me like a ticking bomb. I’m thinking about her.
She drags her fingers down my chest, her nails skimming enough to make me hiss. Then lower, past my abs, until her hand wraps around my shaft.
I groan.
Her touch is confident and slow, like she’s daring me to beg.
