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Moving the bar of soap over my pecs, I get my froth on and let my slick hands do their thing.
I’ve been aching all night.
I haven’t had sex in weeks, and for me, that’s two lifetimes. Then Laine and I…
Damn, we were so close.
My mind flips back to the sensation of pinning her against the glass wall. The sounds that she made while I swept my tongue through her heat. And the greedy pleas that ripped from her throat as her orgasm tore through her.
In that moment, I wasn’t a mafia boss—I was Tag.
Restauranteur.
I chuckle as my body luxuriates in the memory of her coming against my mouth. Whether she regrets it now or not, we connected at that moment.
She was lost with me.
Insane with wanting more from me.
Every moan, thrust, and scent that surrounded us is etched in my memory.
I groan as my cock surges. It’s been a solid rod of granite since we were interrupted, and I need a break from the incessant drive to fuck Laine.
I don’t want to succumb to teenaged basics.
A quick toss in the shower in the morning to start the day on the right foot is one thing. Riding my palm while fantasizing about a woman sleeping down the hall is entirely different.
Except, well…desperate times.
If I let off the pressure, it’ll be better for both of us. I’m going to send her on her way tomorrow and need to be set straight to do that.
Closing my eyes, I send my palm downward, over the ridged planes of my six-pack to the problem at hand. My skin is hot and smooth, stretched over honed muscles.
I dip further south for a second and squeeze my sac. My balls are so tight, they feel like they might burst from the pressure.
Feckin hell. Somewhere over the passing hours, the urge to release tripped way beyond an annoying ache. We’re now in flat out need territory.
I pitch forward to catch myself with a straight arm and a palm against the tile wall. Dropping my head, I close my eyes and give them another twist and squeeze.
The assault sends a sharp tingle across my nerve endings and my already stiff cock jumps in my palm.
The contact is electric.
Maybe it’s the whiskey I guzzled or the steam from the spray, but as I settle into a rhythm, I swear the room starts to spin.
It’s nothing. This is basic biology.
My cock kicks in my palm, and I draw a deep breath. Pressing one hand against the glass of the shower, I arch my back and give myself a slow tug.
Fucking hell, that feels good.
I close my eyes and relive the sensation of my fingers sinking into Laine’s pussy, stroking her inner muscles as the scent of her fills my mind. The clench and release of her orgasm gripping my fingers was incredible.
She’s a fucking drug and after only one touch, I am an addict.
Her aggression surprised me. Once we got started, she really turned on.
She mentioned she’d waited too long. Based on the strip of pale skin on her ring finger, I can only imagine her ex-husband is an idiot.
