Page 13 of Turn Me On (The AfterGlow #2)
rider
The steam from the shower billowed out of the open glass door.
Charlie stood under the flow, hot water streaming down her back.
If mermaids were real, this was what they looked like.
Soaked hair clinging to their shoulders, curves for days on display, naked and wet.
Magical sea creatures at their beck and call.
Beside the mermaids, on all the rocks, were frogs that could talk and ate fireflies.
When frogs ate fireflies, did they still glow in their stomachs?
Did the frogs glow?
What was I thinking about?
Oh. Charlie and her smoking hot body.
God, she was pretty. The crop kisses and tiger stripes across her thighs only added to her raw appeal.
Everything about her was perfect. She was everything I always wanted.
How I ended up lucky enough to marry her, I’ll never know.
I’m just so fucking glad I took a chance all those months ago and swooped in to help her kick Brad out of her life.
Stepping into the shower, I ran my hands along her shoulders and massaged the supple flesh.
She hummed her enjoyment. “That feels so good.”
“Can I wash your hair?” I asked, already reaching for the bottle of minty AfterGlow shampoo.
“Sure you can,” she said, looking back at me with a smile.
I squirted a large dollop into my palm, lathered it up, then worked it through the ends of her hair to her scalp. She was a sucker for a good head massage, so I lingered there, rubbing my thumbs in slow, firm circles at the base of her skull.
“Okay. That feels so good. You’ve got magic hands. ”
Her comment lit me up from the inside out and I beamed. “I just like touching you.”
She sighed. “Okay, let me rinse, and then you can use the conditioner.”
I nodded and grabbed the body soap, dousing myself and doing a quick clean while she washed the shampoo from her hair.
The way her head tipped back, exposing her neck to me, was one of the most beautiful things I’d ever seen.
Her normally bouncy curls were sleek and straight under the weight of the water and reached almost to her ass.
She’d already removed her makeup, and her face and freckles glistened beneath the spray.
She stepped out of the water while I ducked underneath, drenching my body to clean away the soapy suds.
“You want to sleep over?” I asked, running my palms over my body like a squeegee.
Leaning against the glossy black tiles, she crossed her arms—which pressed her tits up and had my eyeballs popping out of my sockets. “I think I’d like to go home. Sleep in our bed.”
God, she had great breasts. Full, round, with the cutest pink stretch marks along the sides.
Her own natural tiger stripes. Sometimes, when we got frisky, I licked each and every one.
She had some on the sides of her thighs, too.
Right below the waistband of her underwear.
Those were white, like tiny lightning bolts. Every single one drove me crazy.
She waved her hands in front of my face. “Earth to Rider. Where’d you go?”
“Sorry, babe. Just thinking about your stretch marks.”
“What? What about them?” She uncrossed her arms and looked down at her breasts.
I shrugged. “How pretty they are.”
Her head tipped to the side to rest against the wall, and she bit her bottom lip. “You’re the sweetest man on the planet. You know that?”
“I do now,” I answered, swiping the conditioner from the recessed shelf and carefully squeezing out a dollar-sized amount to work through her long mane.
Beckoning her forward with my finger, she came to stand in front of me, and I applied the conditioner to the bottom half of her hair first before working toward the top. The water made her strands so dark, they almost looked brown instead of bright auburn.
“So, you’ll take us home for the night?” she asked.
“Oh. Right. Yeah.” I grasped her shoulders and shifted her under the water. “We can go home. I could conk out for a few hours under our own sheets.”
“Thanks, babe,” she said, a cheeky smile on her lips as she rinsed out the conditioner. “I’ll quickly do my nighttime routine here before we go so we can just crawl into bed when we walk through the door.”
“Do you want me to grab your bag from the dressing room?”
“No, that’s alright,” she said, stepping out of the shower and wrapping a plush, white towel around her body. “You finish up here and I’ll run down. I told Lilah and Liv to meet me there when they finish up anyway.”
“Sounds good. I’ll pack up the camera equipment for you. Oh—don’t forget your witch hazel.” I pointed to the washroom counter where I’d left the bottle and a stack of disposable cotton rounds.
When we started messing around with impact play, I researched every possible remedy to help with the welts and marks.
If it was an intense session, we used ice right away to help reduce blood flow to the areas where she was struck.
Witch hazel also turned out to be something I found that worked for her.
Cooled her off and reduced inflammation.
Win-win. Maybe I’d try some on my welts, too.
She ducked back into the shower, stood on her tip-toes, and kissed me full on the lips. “Thank you for taking care of me. You’re the best.”
I slapped her ass lightly as she scurried out of the shower. She threw on a terry cloth robe, her slippers, and winked at me before grabbing the tincture and scampering out the door.
Yup.
Fucking lucky.