Charity

I’m nothing but a fool if I want to pretend that I don’t want Romeo. The longer I spend with him, the more this feels…right.

So when I enter our bathroom and he stalks in right behind me, nothing feels out of place.

Not wanting to face the risk of getting cold feet, I turn to face him.

Even though I know he’ll leave if the words leave my lips, I don’t want him to. I’m tired of keeping my distance.

I could make a show out of stripping. However, there’s this small tremble in my fingers as I pull my shirt over my head.

I’m nervous. Over what, the intensity of Romeo’s gaze? He’s never shied away from letting me know how badly he wants me. This is nothing but further proof. From the way he doesn’t waste time blinking, his movement is jerky as he follows my pace in stripping away his clothes.

Trying not to get lost in the view, my pants go next. One article at a time, I’m soon bare to the world.

I can’t help but stir under his gaze. This is the first time he’s seen me naked since that fateful night. A lot has changed since then. Enough to make me grow a bit self-conscious.

“Do you still like what you see?” Forcing a laugh, the hesitance in my voice makes my concerns clear.

He shakes his head and frowns. “You’re gorgeous, angel. You’ve got no idea how hard of a time I have with not staring at you whenever you’re in the same room as me.” He takes a step forward and erases the space between our bodies. “I love every inch of you, understand?”

My heart skips. Neither of us has thrown around the word love . Love is scary. It’s one of those things I don’t gain successfully. I mean, I suspected Romeo felt strongly about me, but love?

How do I feel about him? There’s no denying this pull between us.

I hate thinking about the past, especially when I’d become so heartbroken by having to give this man up. Experiencing all of that pain, can’t I blame that on love?

He’ll wait until I’m ready to accept these feelings again, I’m sure. When I’m hit with the realization, he’ll be the first to know.

Running away momentarily, I twist knobs until a warm spray of water is falling down.

He’s got one of those large showers that I’d own in my fantasy home. All I have to do is walk inside before stepping beneath the stream directly in the middle. With so much space that I can easily stretch my arms out, I’ve spent plenty of my time in here over the last handful of days.

Warmed by the water, Romeo doesn’t wait long before joining me. He keeps his distance for all of two seconds before creeping forward, standing close enough for a few droplets to hit his skin.

Taking a step back, I bite back a smile when he automatically steps forward. It’s like this man can’t go a moment without sharing the same space as me.

Instead of feeling annoyed, I’m more flattered. Having someone want me as much as Romeo does, I’m pretty sure every woman craves to meet someone like him. Maybe more of a man who has less dirty hands.

Hell, his lifestyle has hardly stopped these pesky feelings from growing more and more.

Washing my body, his eyes follow the movement of my hands. Half-assing his own wash, he’s distracted. Like him, I’m doing a little staring as well.

Without shame, my eyes lower enough to take in his cock. Thick with arousal, it almost looks painful.

After all these days of having this man pleasure me, I kind of want to return the favor. He’s kept his word about never taking. I know I’m the one who needs to give him permission to cross the line.

Joining him under the warm steam, suds roll down our bodies as I reach out and touch his chest. A little innocent at first, my nails scrape against his stomach. Inching lower and lower, his body rumbles from something I can only describe as a growl.

“Do you enjoy making me suffer?” He cups my jaw before sliding his fingers through the wet strands of my hair. Pulling my head back, his breath grazes my lips. “You’re killing me.”

I believe him. He sounds like he’s in pain. Every moment I don’t address the throbbing between his thighs is another that leaves him groaning.

Deciding to put him out of his misery, I wrap my fingers around his cock and give him a generous squeeze. At the same time, he kisses me. Swallowing down his groan, I press as close as I can.

Hardly even feeling the pelt of the stream, I stroke him. I love this feeling, making his breath catch. Each pulse against my fingertips makes mine race.

So pent up, I won’t hold it against him for caving immediately at my touch.

“Fuck, you have no idea how much I’ve missed this.” Reaching out, he flattens his hand against the nearest wall. Needing some form of stability, he closes his eyes to soak in the pleasure of every stroke.

Watching the way his face morphs into different expressions, I soon let my gaze drift lower.

I find it hard to believe a big powerful man like Romeo can be so weak to nothing but my hand.

The next kiss is searing and suffocating. The steady rhythm I have going is interrupted as I forget how to do the simplest task of breathing. He doesn’t care, tasting me like it’s his first time.

He’s a man who always devours. Constantly acting like a man who is starving.

Without his hands touching me, the familiar low throb forms between my thighs. An ache to have this man in ways I’ve made myself forget.

Romeo isn’t going anywhere. At this point, I can call him mine. I can open myself up and become vulnerable to this man. I can offer him my heart without worrying about losing everything.

“Here I thought I was stronger than this.” Murmuring his words, he lets out a low moan as his release hits my leg. Running down with the stream of water, he’s left panting.

Satisfied with my touch, he plucks my hand away and kisses my fingertips appreciatively.

“Will you let me have you, or do I have to beg you?” Words coming out raspy, I have no doubt this man will drop to his knees if need be. “I don’t know how much longer I can wait.”

With a heat scorching my insides, I won’t put us both through that suffering.

With a nod, the fire behind his gaze grows larger and larger.

He picks me up, wet body and all. Like I weigh nothing, his arms wrap securely around my legs and back. Carrying me like he would a future bride, he steps out of the shower.

Rather than letting me dry off, he walks me in the direction of the door.

“This is dangerous.” Clinging to him, I tuck my face against his throat. “Don’t think about dropping me.”

His chest rumbles with amusement. “You don’t have to worry about that. I don’t plan on letting you go.”

With that, he carries me out of the bathroom with the full intention of making me his.