Page 53 of Arranged Obsession
Sculpted from heaven.
The front door opens and I sit straight up.
“Hello?” I call out, but nobody answers. I stand and nervously drift into the front hall. I don’t hear anything at first until the shower water starts to run.
There’s something red on the floor. I drift over and stoop down, frowning.
Drops of blood.
My heart quickens. I move up the steps without thinking about it. Both the bedroom and the bathroom doors are open, and I storm through before I realize my mistake.
He’s in the shower. The big, glass shower. With zero privacy. Not a single drop of steam. And very, very naked.
I stare in total shock.
I don’t know what I expected. I mean, I heard the water running. But I saw the blood and instantly worried he might be hurt. I thought I had to help.
Stupid call.
Cormac stares at me as water runs down his incredible body. His muscles gleam in the light. Water drips from his mouth, from his hair, from his shockingly massive dick.
Oh, fuck.
Stop looking at his dick.
“I’m sorry!” I whip around and cover my face with both hands. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry! I saw blood on the floor and I thought?—”
“Not my blood,” he says with a sigh.
I glance down at the floor. His clothes are in a pile, and it looks like there are more stains on his pants and his shirt.
“You’re okay?” I ask, trembling. If I turn around again, I’ll see him. That incredible body. That thick cock. Would that thing even fit in my fist?Why am I thinking about wrapping my hands around him and stroking?
“I’m fine. You don’t have to act like you just committed a crime, you know.”
“I shouldn’t have just barged in here like that. I mean, I heard the water running.”
“I don’t care.”
“Maybe I do.”
The shower turns off. I hear the shower door open and a towel pull down. “I’m decent.”
I glance over my shoulder.
Jesus fucking hell, he is most definitelynot.
His lower half is covered. That’s true. But the man’s still damp and he looks like perfection. My heart’s trying to hammer its way to the top of my skull and that insane tingle between my legs is going crazy again.
“You’re sure you’re okay?” I back away into the bedroom.
He comes toward me. “It was a rough night.”
“Want to talk about it?”
“Not really.”
“Okay. Good. I’m not sure I could handle that anyway.” I run into the bed and stop, still staring at him.Go back downstairs. Don’t just stand there.My legs don’t move though. “Do you have a therapist?”
