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“I’m not sure I’ll have the energy.”
“The food here is superb. We could eat dinner in tonight.”
I narrow my eyes at him while backing up to sit back down. “What are you up to, Foster Black?”
“Don’t worry, your gorgeous head about it. Take a bath. You’ll love the tub.” He turns on his heel and lifts the suitcases onto racks by the closet. Unzipping his bag, he removes a brand new white shirt and dark blue tie.
“You brought new clothes?” I question.
“I hate it when my shirts wrinkle. This is the easiest way to get them perfect.”
“Or you could ask the hotel to steam them.”
“I could, but this is less of a hassle.”
I raise a single eyebrow at him as I rub my feet. “In the six months I’ve lived with you, I’ve come to one conclusion.”
Foster turns as he slips out of his gray suit jacket. “And that is?”
“You act like anything but a wealthy man.”
“You have my mother to thank for that. She wanted me to be self-sufficient and not look down my nose at people.”
“She should see you at work,” I mutter.
“I’ll admit I can be a hard-ass, but it gets results.”
“An ass is more like it.”
Foster frowns. “I think you should take a nap. You’re grouchy.”
This time when I rise, I go to my suitcase. Opening it, I take out a long dark blue t-shirt. Beside me, Foster removes his blue dress shirt and silver tie along with his t-shirt, placing them all over a chair near his suitcase. As he changes, I gaze at the flex of his muscular back as he pulls on a fresh t-shirt.
Shaking him from my mind, I take my things to the bathroom. The hotel has a separate toilet and sink area from the shower and tub. I wash my hands in the white marble sink with black striations. The entire bath is decked out in the same marble. Next to the toilet is a bidet. I’ve never used one before, and I sat down, cautiously pressing the button for the water, a stream shoots out, washing me. To my surprise, I shift, and the stream hits my clit.my genitals but also stimulating my clit.
“Ooh,” I moan.
Foster knocks on the door, asking, “Are you okay?”
I clear my throat and yank a towel from one of the brass bars to wipe myself. “Fine!”
“I’m leaving,” he announces. “I’ll be back in a couple of hours.”
“Talk to you later,” I call through the door. Foster is gone when I step out of the bathroom, his cologne lingering in the air. I spy his t-shirt hanging over the chair and pick it up, pressing it to my nose. In years past, I’d often worn the clothing of my boyfriends.
However tempted, I put the t-shirt down and pick up the blue dress shirt, once again pressing my nose to the cloth. Being in a strange place in a strange city, I find comfort in Foster’s scent and undress down to my white lace panties before slipping his shirt on. Peeling the covers of the bed back, I almost moan as I slide under them. The mattress is the most comfortable one I’ve ever slept on, and as soon as my head hits the pillow, I fade off to sleep.
“Paige, sweetheart, wake up. I’m back.”
Coming to, I’m slightly aware of Foster whispering against my cheek. I turn over to see him gazing down at me, his blue tie loose, and the top buttons of his collar open. Silently, I reach up to stroke his face, pushing the covers away as I lift my arm. My breasts are exposed in Foster’s too-large shirt since I didn’t button it all the way. His eyes widen, fixing on them.
“They’re beautiful,” he murmurs. “Can I?”
I am speechless as he dips his head and takes my peaked nipple into his mouth. He moans as he nibbles and licks my pebbled flesh before moving to the other breast, cupping the one he just sucked.
“Foster,” I moan, my core flooding with desire as he pops another button to kiss my belly.
“I need you. I want to make love to you.”
