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Wow. When Mag finally shared, he was good at expressing himself. "I think I get that. It's kind of similar with the bakery, on a much smaller scale, of course, but I feel like it's my duty to carry on the traditions of my grandfather to honor him." I thought of my parents too, who died when I was young. It wasn't my fault, but I still felt obligated to comply with everything to somehow make up for the lives they never got to live.
Mag started working on my arm again. He gently wiped a cut, placed some ointment on it, and then a small bandage. "When you were hurt, I took it as another failure on my part."
I turned to my side to look up at him, holding the towel at my chest. "But you were there."
"Wrong door." His lips quirked, one side up, the other down, in an adorable childlike manner.
"You couldn't have known what door they'd come to. They came to the back door last time."
"Mmm-hmm." His gaze was on my arms, looking to see where else he needed to mend.
"It's not your fault. You did the best you could with the system."
"Shoulda pushed for the doors right away, not allowed the wait till Monday."
"It's hard to get custom doors done on a weekend."
"Yeah." His face was so sad and heart-breakingly human, I reached out and touched his hand with mine. We'd been doing a lot of touching with the first-aid anyway, so it didn't seem too odd.
"You're like me. I'm a perfectionist too. Everything has to be right or I blame myself, but if you look at it from a different perspective, like mine of you, I just think you're amazing. I thought everything you did was great, and you also covered me when the explosion happened."
"Barely got to you in time." I recognized the grief in his eyes. I'd seen it in my own many times.
"I could say it was my fault for leaving my room, for not going to the police about Kenny, for not having enough money for proper door locks. Do you blame me for all that?"
"No."
"I don't blame you for anything that happened, and I'm sure none of the families of the men who died blame you.Sometimes bad things just happen. Like my grandfather's illness. Nothing we could've done." I was telling him that, but did I really believe it myself? If I did, would I be putting my whole life on hold to run the bakery in his absence?
"Right. Lower the towel. Let me check your back."
I lay back down with my front on the bed. The towel was stuck beneath me, and I waited to see what he'd do. After a few moments, he reached out and tugged. I lifted up a little and he pulled it down. I'm sure he got a look at my side boob.
He brushed my hair over my shoulder and focused on a cut up high near my neck first. Then he threw a leg over and straddled me just below my bottom. I could swear he leaned down much deeper than he needed to as he pulled the towel to my waist. He mumbled something about, "Just checking."
Oh my God. Magnum's heat radiated from him like an energy field. I felt that magic tingling sensation that had surprised me when our lips met at the wedding and when his hips smashed mine to the wall in the hotel. Whenever he touched me, my libido ignited, and I lost control of my thoughts.
With his massive muscular frame on top of me, it was like flames emanated from between his thighs, and I felt them like a caress on my backside.
He could've easily spread my legs with his knees and lay down fully on top of me, pressing his hard cock to my bottom. What a naughty, nasty image I'd conjured, but also so hot. I started to grow wet between my legs just thinking about it. I might've let out a small whimper, and I think I heard a hum of approval from him in response.
By the time Magnum pulled the towel down to the top of my panties, I was fully absorbed in the fantasy. Like what if he just did it? What if he took my hands and locked them over my head as he pressed me into the mattress with that big beautiful brown body?
My hips wiggled of their own accord. The pressure was building and it needed release somehow, some way. The comforter was thick and pillowy as I dug my hips into it.
Magnum stopped moving. My breaths came short and fast and my whole body felt like it was on fire as my core contracted with delicious spasms. My cheeks burned with humiliation on how turned on I was and he hadn't even really touched me. All he'd done was straddle me and slowly lower the towel.
God, was I so hard up that a tiny bit of attention turned me into mush? Gavin touched my back all the time, and I'd never reacted like this. In fact, Gavin had never made my belly clench with need like Magnum had just done.
Magnum let go of the top of the towel suddenly and cleared his throat. He moved backwards and lifted the bottom edge. "Legs all good." His voice cracked.
Then he was gone. He'd dropped the stuff he was using on the floor next to the bed and left the room. Through the doorway, I could see him staring out the window in the living room. He propped his hands on his hips and his feet fidgeted back and forth. "I think you're okay now," he murmured with his back to me.
I giggled and slid the towel back up over my breasts. Did he know what I was thinking? Was it that obvious? MaybeI should've worked harder to hide it, but it was awkwardly funny too.
The man who had no problem with explosions turned into a teenage boy when he saw my white panties and some side boob. Did I really have an effect on him? He'd probably seen hundreds of gorgeous women naked.
I'd never thought of myself as attractive in that way and always dressed modestly to disguise my curves. I had larger breasts than most Asian women, and I was lucky to have a round ass thanks to my addiction to ice cream. I liked to run for exercise, so I was in good shape, but still, nothing that should've made him nervous.
