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SHE HAS ME SO WORKEDup and twisted around. My hand mimics the corkscrew of my imagination, soapy grip on my hard cock moving faster and faster, lip bitten hard to keep my dirty secret hidden. I shouldn’t be jerking off, thinking about making love to Teri.

Matteo being good in bed was in her litany of reasons why she let herself follow blindly in his glamorous wake. But just from her descriptions, from little things she’s mentioned and a few spare moments on my phone, I can tell what a selfish lover he must have been. Oh sure, he gave her pleasure and satisfaction because it stroked his ego, too. But I bet he always wanted his share. I bet he never gave unless he could take.

Right now, I imagine showing her that I can spoil her, that I don’t need anything from her except the sound of her cries to explode in pleasure. I’ve never been pleasured by another. I can’t imagine the privilege of having a woman like Teri touching me, taking me inside of her. No, I’ll be the one serving her, loving her, delighting her, feeling her hands stroke my smooth scalp as I give her exactly what she wants, what she should have.

My fist jerks faster and my breathing loses rhythm as I imagine my head buried between her thighs, letting her be on top as she rides my face into a happy vortex of pussy juice and breathless curses.

My cum spatters the shower wall with a single shout.

I hear an answering shout from across the hall. “Therese?” I choke, coming back to reality with a thud. I spray the showerhead at the wall to remove any evidence of my lust and give myself the fastest scrub down on record, clay skin now extra supple and muscles more defined, plumped with the water I absorbed. With a muffled curse, I hurdle out of the tub and into a towel, shouldering open the door of the bedroom before I even assess the situation.

This woman makes me crazy.

And there she is on the bed, hand yanking up to her chest, flushed face and mussed hair telling me a story without her uttering a single word.

It wasn’t a cry of pain.

It was a cry of pleasure.

“I... I was just—” Therese stammers guiltily, her eyes sweeping down my body and freezing at hip height.

I consider closing my towel more firmly. Instead, I leave it where it is, showing the crease where my thigh and towel meet. An inch to the side, and I’ll show her that I’m already semi-hard for her again.

“I was—it’s been a—” Teri tries to explain as she sits up, but her words won’t come. I walk over to the switch on the wall, moving slowly, giving her plenty of time to stop me.

She doesn’t.

“Can I try to change your mind about my earlier suggestion?” I ask, voice soft and tight. If I let myself speak louder, my voice will crack and the spell will be broken.

Therese’s head nods jerkily—and I turn off the lights.

Chapter Twelve

In the dark, with only the light from the bathroom across the hall to give us a shadowy hint of what to expect, Reggie drops his towel and climbs on the bed beside me.

“I was thinking about you,” he says in a husky voice that has my still-spasming pussy tightening again.

“I was thinking about you,” I confess. “This is confusing for me. I’m sorry. You don’t deserve—”

“Shhh. I’ll tell you what I want. I want to make you scream my name—for real. No faking it. No doing things you think I’ll like unless they turn you on and get you wet. I want to make love with you. But for tonight, I want to make sure you come until you fall asleep and have sweet, satiated dreams.”

As he talks, he prowls up my body until he holds himself over me, supported by one arm, the other hand cupping my chin firmly.

Reginald Gray is one commanding presence—and he’s kissing me while I nod.

“Take this off?” He tugs on my top, but there’s a question in his voice. I know I could tell him no.

I don’t want to. I hurry to obey, top flying to the floor as Reggie grips my stretchy cotton pajama bottoms in his fist and pulls them firmly to my knees. I kick them the rest of the way off, careful not to knee him.

My legs slip between his as the kissing deepens. “I’ve never done this. You tell me if it isn’t good?" His voice is a husk thatstrokes down my belly and kisses my clit, making my toes curl just from his words.

“It’ll be amazing,” I whisper, and it’s a promise. A belief. Reggie makes me believe everything is going to be better than okay, everything is going to be better than I imagined.

Every inch of him is defined by muscle, the hard, thick kind, ridges and layers. A brick fortress of a body that makes me feel so safe and so hot at once...These muscles were built to last. And the hardness between his thighs—I don’t know who built that part or if he can change his clay-like form at will, but I wouldn’t change a thing. I trace it with my knee, trying to gauge if he’s longer or thicker than what I’m used to with my ex. The weight of him makes my insides feel hot and slippery. He’s thick, solid, and longer than my hand from the base of my palm to the tip of my middle finger.

“That’s not for tonight.”

“Why the hell not?” I burst out, making him laugh.