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Had I even had sex before tonight? Yes, obviously, but wasthatwhat it was supposed to be like? Every time? I’d had guys eat my ass and finger me but only attheirinsistence and never for very long. Short of the money changing hands, it wasn’t ever for my benefit. And if I happened to be on the other end of it, it certainly wasn’t formypleasure; it was to get them ready or get them off, whichever was the quickest path to the finish line. How long had Misha gone at it, anyway? It felt like forever—notthat I was complaining.
Misha reappeared, opening the shower door, and I was nothing short of mesmerized. He’d stripped down to his boxer briefs, all sculpted and golden, looking like he belonged in a luxury cologne ad. Except for the tattoos. They ran up and down his muscular arms, not quite full sleeves, but with enough designs that they may as well have been.
I hadn’t been wrong in picturing a hard, well-defined body underneath those suits, either. I wanted to worship every ridge and crevice I could find and there were plenty to be found. The perfect amount of sandy chest hair tapered into a happy trail that disappeared beneath the band of his underwear, leading straight to a bulge I was beyond curious to see up close.
“Need help?” he asked, quirking a brow and interrupting my awestruck fantasies.
Shit, how long had I been in there?
I pushed myself off of the wall, shaking my head.
He stepped inside anyway, underwear and all, and angled the main shower head away from him so it was directed toward me. Squeezing a dollop of shampoo onto his hands, he massaged it into my scalp, his fingers scraping every now and again, renewing the shivering sensation up and down my spine.
Sighing, I closed my eyes and tipped my head back. “You don’t have to do this, you know. I am capable of bathing.”
“I know.” He nudged me under the jets, rinsing the suds out of my hair.
“Do you do this for all of your employees?”Why the fuck did I just ask that question? Oh, right. Asshole.Well, too late now.It was out in the world and I couldn’t take it back, as was the case with so many of my terrible decisions.
“No,” he replied, thankfully sounding more amused than annoyed.
“Just the ones you fuck?”
Sliding his hands over my shoulders, he pulled me back a step so I was out of the water and closer to him, allowing his lips to whisper over my ear. “I haven’t fucked you yet.”
Despite being exhausted, my dick sat up and took notice, not just to what he said but to all the things that potentially followed the last word—yet. A thousand untold promises. Not a hope, not a wish; it was a foregone conclusion in his mind.
“Then what do you call that back there?” I turned slightly, looking at him over my shoulder.
The sexiest, self-satisfied smirk curled his lips. “Foreplay.”
I almost came again, right then and there, from that alone. The way he purred the word, how palpable his desire was, it sent all of my blood flowing south again. But I did my best not to react. He’d already seen me turn into a whiny heap of desperation once, I couldn’t make it a habit around him. “And what ifIwant to fuckyou?”
“You can do whatever you want to me.”
Well fuck me six ways from Sunday.I wanted to take him up on his offer right then but I couldn’t. Goddamn, I couldn’t. This whole thing had already gone too far. I couldn’t let myself get attached, no matter how good the sex was. Or non-sex. Foreplay. Whatever he called it.
He smirked again, giving me a knowing look, before soaping up a washcloth and running it over my back gently.
“Interesting place for a tattoo,” he murmured, tracing the M on the back of my right shoulder. If he noticed the scar beneath it, he didn’t say anything.
“I let a friend practice,” I said offhandedly, hoping he bought the explanation for the shitty location. Until I remembered I told him about Ken and the knife.Fuck!Hopefully he hadn’t retained that bit of information. The scar beneath the M might not have been visible anymore but he was bound to feel it when he ran his hand over my skin.
“I got it.” I laid my hand over his as it crested my shoulder to stop him from moving again and possibly touching the hidden scar for a second time. Slowly pulling the washcloth free, I murmured, “Thanks.”
“Take your time.” The smile he gave me actually made my stomach do a weird flip, which was so stupid considering what we’d just done. He exited the shower and the bathroom, leaving me to it.
Giving myself a mental slap, I got my shit together and showered quickly so I didn’t look like a total basket case. Wrapping a towel around my waist, I made my way out of the bathroom, trying to get my head back in the game. The bar was definitely raised with Misha. I’d have to bust out every single trick I had if I hoped to even come close to the euphoria he dished out.
Misha was in bed, naked, as far as I could tell, reading a book. As I got closer, I recognized it as the same one I’d been reading on James Garfield, only a newer, non-trashed version. For some reason, my stomach did another weird little clench. He was a smart guy. He was probably filling in the gap in his knowledge of American history. Based on his other books, he obviously liked history. It was a coincidence. That was all.
Marking his place and setting the book aside, Misha lifted the comforter for me when I was closer. In the time it took me to shower, he’d changed the sheets and remade the bed. More surprising than that was the fact he wasstillwearing underwear. Underwear plus clean sheets meant he wasn’t expecting Round Two.What the fuck?
I dropped the towel and slid beneath the blanket, trying to figure out what his angle was. Did he jack off while I was in the shower too? Is that why he wasn’t interested? I could have taken care of that for him,noproblem.
He caressed the side of my face, bringing me closer so he could press his lips to mine in another one of his molten kisses. I melted right into him, minimizing any space between us.
His lips brushed across mine one more time before they grazed my nose, my cheekbone, my forehead. One arm slipped beneath me, curling around my back as I nestled against his broad chest, my leg intertwined with his.
