Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 114647 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 573(@200wpm)___ 459(@250wpm)___ 382(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114647 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 573(@200wpm)___ 459(@250wpm)___ 382(@300wpm)
How cool!
It wasn’t until I was done admiring Janie’s decorating skills, however, that I comprehended that I didn’t have anything to wear other than blood-splattered clothes. Sneaking out into the hallway with a towel wrapped securely around my chest, I tiptoed into James’ room in hopes of getting a t-shirt before he got out of his own bath.
His bathroom door was cracked slightly, and I could hear the pound of water hitting tile, and the sound of James moving around. It wasn’t until I got to James’ dresser that I realized that I could see through the crack in his door.
What I saw made me gasp. Whether in appreciation or apprehension, I didn’t know.
At first, I didn’t notice the man standing under the spray. I noticed the difference between his bathroom and Janie’s bathroom. White walls, black towels, and practically boring décor that managed to draw the eye, rather than bore it. There was no shower curtain in his, only a clear glass that went from ceiling just about waist level, and from there the glass became frosted.
James was standing there, water streaming from the faucet above his head, falling down his body in rivulets. Head hung. His muscular arms were up high above his head, holding on to the top of the glass with both hands. His chest was clear of any tattoos except for a lone crosshairs tattoo centered over a skull right over his heart. I could also clearly see the peak of something black sneaking up over his shoulder from his back.
He was wearing a pair of dog tags that fell to about pec level, drawing attention to his muscular chest, and rock hard abs. I followed the ridges of his stomach lower until my gaze was interrupted by the different colored glass. Disappointment settled in my gut as I wished that the stupid frosted glass wasn’t there. Then maybe I could see the other half of his body. Specifically the cock I’d felt through his clothes earlier when he was holding me.
While I was trying to will away the glass covering his lower half, one of his hands came down, rubbing down his chest, abs, and then lower. My eyes flew to his face, and I watched as his face went from blank, to a picture of pleasure in the next second.
He growled low in his throat, and I let my eyes devour his body. The motion of his hand behind the frosted glass could only be one thing. His hand was moving slow at first, and I watched as the muscles in his arms, chest, and abs tensed and relaxed with each movement. Slowly, he picked up speed until his whole body was tensing in anticipation of his release.
Arm pumping fast, I could now hear the ‘slap, slap’ of skin against skin.
Unconsciously, I let my own hand sneak down until I was touching myself as well. My middle finger working my clit at the same speed that James’ hand was moving on his cock. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I realized that what I was doing was so very wrong, but what would it hurt to watch?
I found that out a few seconds later when he came with a grunt. His eyes snapped open, and then his lust-filled eyes locked to mine. My own orgasm coursed through me, but there was nothing I could do but let it flow through me.
I told myself to run. To move my feet. To get out of there.
Yet my feet stayed locked in place as the shower door opened, and I got my first good look at James’ massive appendage. With a freaking piercing. In his freaking penis.
“Mother fucker,” I breathed.
His smirk pointed out that my comment didn’t go unnoticed by him. He grabbed the closest towel off the towel rack and started drying himself off with practical motions. First his shoulders and chest, then down to his legs. His hair, and finally his package.
All the while I watched, willing myself to move.
The door opened all the way, and he walked up to me slowly, as if he was scared I’d run if he moved too fast. “Like what you saw?”
All I could do was nod. “I-I came for a t-t-shirt. My clothes are dirty.” I stuttered.
Grabbing a t-shirt off the end of the bed as he passed, he stopped in front of me, feet inches away from my own. Reaching down, he slowly pulled my hand, and my face flamed when I realized that my hand was still buried in between my legs.
What he did next floored me.
Bringing my hand up, he pulled the two fingers I’d been using to stroke my clit, and sucked them into his mouth. Running the length of his tongue along each finger, sucking and licking the juices from them.
My face flamed for a different reason this time. Desire.
“Maybe next time you can join...” James started to say, but then was interrupted by the front door banging open, and then slamming shut.
“Daddy! I’m hungry! Cheyenne sent me home. She said I needed a bath, and to ask you for dinner. They were eating broccoli rice shit. I didn’t want to eat with her ass anyway.” Janie griped.
Nothing could’ve been more effective.
The desire I’d been feeling was instantly replaced with shock, then my flight instinct kicked in and I ran to his bathroom, slamming the door behind me.
My God. What have I just done?
***
I emerged from the confines of the bathroom fifteen minutes later. When the cool air of his bedroom hit my face, I was relieved to see James nowhere in sight. I could hear James low deep voice speaking with the high-pitched one of his daughter’s, and laughed when I heard the conversation.
“Daddy, can we color tonight?” Janie asked.
“As long as it’s on paper.”
A muttered curse had James’ stifling a snort, but then he scolded her. “Janie, sometime this week you’re going to have someone else come visit you. Don’t say any bad words in front of them, okay?”
That brought up another question I’d meant to ask him. What did that cop mean by being investigated? Would my new job ask me to do that? I’d have to tell them no, and then they’d want to know why.