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“I can’t stop looking at you.”
I lift my head to meet his gaze. If it were another man, I’d think he was flirting, but Athanasios doesn’t do that. He’s brutally honest.
Despite my nervousness, I smile. “Keep going, Dr. Pappakouris. I like being the one who steals your attention.”
We stay in the shower for several minutes, enjoying the warmth of the water. At one point, I close my eyes, leaning against his chest as he holds me tightly.
I barely notice when he turns off the shower. After wrapping a towel around his waist, he returns to dry me off.
The sensation of being cared for is unfamiliar but not too frightening. I could get used to this.
He carries me back to the bedroom and dresses me in a large, fluffy robe.
I sit on the bed, my legs feeling unsteady, watching him casually let his towel fall to the floor.
I try to keep a neutral expression, but it’s the first time I’ve had the opportunity to fully appreciate his body as a mere spectator, and I doubt my mouth will ever close again.
He’s not just handsome; he’s an invitation to wild, untamed sex.
Tanned, firm everywhere, with a strong chest and arms. But when my gaze travels down his waistline, my hormones go haywire.
His thick, muscular thighs are perfectly sculpted, and between them, his enormous erection stands tall once more.
“Brooklyn, if you keep looking at me like that, we won’t eat food tonight. I could feast on you with no problem, but I need to make sure I meet all your needs. Every single one of them.”
I take a deep breath and avert my gaze because otherwise, I’ll go straight to him. Athanasios is right—while my body is in control right now, not my mind, I need to eat.
“You need to make sure all my needs are met because you’re a control freak?” I ask, responding to his argument.
“That too, but mostly because I want to ensure that the next time I fuck you, you won’t faint from weakness.”
After that declaration, which sends shivers over every inch of my body, he puts on a pair of boxer briefs, struggling to fit his rigid length inside, comes over, kisses my forehead, and leaves.
I spend about five minutes trying to get my neurons functioning again, shocked at myself for the intensity of my desire.
When I finally return to planet Earth, I grab my phone to send Eleanor a message.
I’m sleeping here. Everything is fine.
She replies in less than a minute.
Mom:Just fine?
Me:No. It’s wonderful. Are the babies still asleep?
Mom:Yes. Don’t worry. Enjoy yourself.
Me:See you tomorrow. Love you.
Athanasios
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
"Eleanorand I are thinking about getting a dog," she says, taking a sip of sparkling water and wiping her mouth with a napkin.
I have plenty of frozen meals prepared by my staff, but I’ve barely touched my food—an asparagus risotto—too focused on deciphering every little nuance of her. However, her words finally pull me out of my obsession.
"A guard dog?" I ask, frowning.