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He stayed right there, waiting for me to ride out every last bit of pleasure.
I couldn’t speak. My body was spent, and he stood up and shoved his shorts down his strong thighs before tugging his tank top over his head.
His cock sprang free and pointed directly at me, and he chuckled. “He loves you as much as I do.”
“The feeling is mutual,” I whispered.
He stroked my cheek. “You okay?”
“Yeah, just trying to keep up with the GOAT of the NFL on a run and then get my world rocked right here on the counter.” I chuckled.
He studied me before turning on the shower and then scooping me up and carrying me in with him. He set me on my feet, and I reached down to stroke him. He grabbed my wrists and lifted my hands to his lips. “Not right now. That can wait.”
And he spent the next twenty minutes gently washing my body, washing my hair, and kissing my neck. He wrapped me in a towel and dried my hair with the other towel sitting on the counter before wrapping it around his waist.
This man had a way of making me feel like I was the only woman in the world.
And I loved every second of it.
I didn’t want this time to ever end.
We’d been existing in a bubble, and I wasn’t in any hurry to leave it.
twenty-six
Lincoln
Brinkley’s articleabout that asshole, Breen Lockhart, had gone to print today, so we’d celebrated with a lunch date at Cottonwood Café. Because who didn’t want to be sexually harassed by an inappropriate woman on a Wednesday afternoon?
“You two sure do spend a lot of time together. You sure it’s all work and no pleasure?” Mrs. Runither purred as she leaned over the table. One of her nipples was fully exposed when her low-cut dress flopped open. She clearly wasn’t wearing a bra, and my taste for macaroni and cheese had just completely vanished. I looked at my girlfriend because I wanted to look anywhere but at the tit that was currently resting next to my menu.
These weren’t the kind of knockers that you wanted displayed across your lunch table.
Brinkley glanced over at me with a wicked grin and then turned her attention back to the older woman. “He’s a full-time job, Mrs. Runither. And you’ve got yourself a little situation or, er, a big situation going on.”
The woman glanced down and chuckled. “Ahhh… maybe that’s what you two need to get a little motivated.”
“Definitely not,” I grunted under my breath so only Brinkley could hear me.
“All work and no play makes Lincoln a very boring boy.” Her tangerine lips were unusually large, and it wasn’t a good look.
“Trust me, there’s nothing boring going on here.” I winked.
She clapped her hands together. “I’m sure there isn’t. I’ll get those orders right out.”
“That woman would be green with envy to know that I woke up with your head buried between my legs this morning.” Brinkley leaned close and whispered in my ear.
“I fucking love hearing you cry out my name before the sun comes up.”
She smiled, cheeks pink and eyes hooded. She was the sexiest woman I’d ever known, and the thought of not waking up with her every day had me on edge. I was a selfish prick. I wanted her to take a job out in New York and move in with me. But at the same time, I wrestled with it, because seeing her happy was equally important to me. And if working for the magazine that was based in San Francisco was what she wanted, I wanted that for her, as well.
At least I was trying to.
I held up my glass of lemonade. “Congrats on the article, sweetheart.”
“Yeah, thank you. They’ve been really great to work with.”
“Sport-Xhas?”
