Page 39 of Her Keeper
“Why don’t you get in the shower Let me wash you.”
Before I could answer, her hand were at the hem of my shirt, lifting it up and over my chest, then over my head. She tossed it on the floor and drew her hands down my shoulders, over my pecs, and then over my abs. I leaned into it and sighed, loving the feel of her fingertips on my skin. She had magic hands, I could swear it. The moment she started touching me every thought went out of my head.
Even the thoughts I knew I needed to keep a hold on.
Her hands slipped into the waistband of my jeans and made quick work of the button, and then she was sliding them down over my ass and letting them drop to the floor. My cock sprang out between us and she took a moment to brush her fingers over the tip.
I groaned and nearly came all over hand, but she shushed me.
“Quiet. Everyone else is still in the kitchen,” she whispered.
The thought didn’t have the dampening effect on me that she probably expected.
Still, I let her turn and lead me into the shower, leaning on her as I went in the door to keep from putting too much weight on my injured leg. Once we were in, I found the water hot and steamy, and the space just large enough for both of us to comfortably fit. I turned to her and let my gaze travel down her perfect body, the water rushing over her curves and leaving her wet and steaming.
“God you’re gorgeous,” I murmured, my hands already at work.
I pushed her back against the wall, seeking to pin her there and take advantage of the lack of clothes, but she slid out from under me and came up behind me, turning me quickly and putting my back to the wall.
“Stand still,” she demanded. “This time, I’m taking care of you.”
I watched as she grabbed a bottle full of soap and poured it into her palm, then rubbed her hands together. Once she’d worked the soap up to a foam, she spread her hands over my chest, rubbing me softly as she washed me. Her hands traveled over my shoulders and down my arms, then over my abs, moving downward until she reached my hard length.
I gasped as she grabbed me and began to stroke me, her body coming up against mine and pressing my cock between us. Her breath was suddenly hot in my ear, her tits firm against my chest, and my hips began to rock with need. The water, the steam, the slickness of her hand on my cock...
She stepped back almost as quickly as she’d stepped forward, her hand suddenly leaving my cock and moving further down. She rinsed her hands and turned me toward the water, gently funneling it over my wound and washing away the blood that had gathered there.
And though I wished she was still stroking my cock, or pinned against the wall and taking me deep inside, I had to admit that this was one of most erotic moments of my life. Her hands on my body, her eyes turned watch what she was doing, all with the most exquisite care and love...
I wasn’t used to having people take care of me, and I’d never allowed a woman to wash me before. The feel of it was more intimate than anything I’d ever done with anyone else.
And I could feel the need for her growing inside me. Not in my balls or my cock, though those were straining for her, but in my heart, which felt like it might explode at any moment.
Then she turned me, dropped to her knees in front of me, and took my cock in her mouth. And I forgot that I was supposed to keep quiet, to hide what we were doing in here together.
17
PENNY
Iwalked Michael into the bedroom and laid him down in bed after our shower, his hair and skin still damp with water and his eyes heavy. I’d never felt more tender toward him, and it took everything in me to lay him down and then leave him to sleep. I watched his eyes close, though, and waited for his breath to become steady and even.
Then I turned and walked toward the doorway, getting through it before he could wake up. I went into the kitchen, grabbed the keys to his car, made an excuse to Sloane about needing to get some air, and went out the back door of the house.
I didn’t need anyone else going with me for this particular errand. And I didn’t want any of them knowing that I’d left at all.
They’d only try to stop me if they knew.
* * *
An hour later, I was at my destination.
Michael hadn’t been kidding when he said he’d moved us all the way out to the suburbs. Thank God his car had a good nav system, or I never would have known how to get here.
Not that I’d ever spent much time in this particular building, in the first place. The brownstone several blocks down from this one? Yes.
Only that one sat in Brennan territory, and I knew I’d always be welcomed there.
Here, at the Rossi house, on the other hand...
