I didn’t plan to make love to her again in the shower, but we know what’s become of my plans since the rogue warrior took over my program, which has been blown to smithereens. Shredded. Dismantled. Absolutely nothing has gone according to my carefully crafted plan. But the outcome has exceeded my wildest expectations.
Lauren now knows without a shadow of a doubt that there’s nothing wrong with her performance in the bedroom. In fact, if her performance had been any more outstanding, I wouldn’t be able to walk today. As it is, I’ll probably have a slight limp from the ache in my groin. I’ll never forget the image of her straddling my face last night and then bending forward to suck my cock while I licked her pussy. It was fucking amazing, but if I allow myself to think about that, I’ll be hard again in no time.
I have to go to work today. That’s nonnegotiable. With that in mind, I take the time to shave in the shower while Lauren goes to get dressed. She returns to the bathroom to brush her hair, and with my eyes drawn to her rather than the mirror, I slice my chin wide open. “Fuck!”
“Cut myself shaving.”
“Ouch. Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” But the bleeding is profuse, and the metaphor isn’t lost on me--take your eye off the game and end up bleeding. When I step out of the shower, Lauren is there with first aid supplies she must’ve unearthed from the bathroom closet. She presses gauze to my chin and applies pressure until the bleeding slows. Then she dabs antibiotic ointment on the cut.
As she works, she rolls her bottom lip between her teeth and is intent on her task. “I think you’re going to live,” she says, smiling up at me.
I’m completely dazzled by the smile, by the pleasure of having her here with me as I start my day, by the way she took care of me and… She’s lovely to look at. So fucking lovely.
“Garrett? Why’re you staring at me?”
“You’re very pretty in the morning. All the time, but I like how you look in the morning.”
She wrinkles her nose. “I haven’t even put on mascara yet.”
“You don’t need it.” I kiss her nose and go into my closet, located off the bathroom, to get dressed in my usual work uniform of dress pants and a starched shirt. Most days, I don’t bother with a tie, but with back-to-back client meetings today, I put on a tie.
When I emerge, Lauren is seated on the countertop, legs crossed, doing something with a nail file. My gaze runs the length of her leg, from the tips of her coral-colored toes to the firm, toned calves to the hem of the dress she wore for our dinner the other night, which lands above her knee. Remembering she left the panties at home, I have to look away or I’ll be sidetracked once again.
“Uh-huh.” She jumps down from the counter and slides her feet into those sexy fuck-me heels.
This is gonna be a long-ass day.