Chapter Twenty-Five

“My rainy days are yours, Dominic. If you want them.”

She didn’t run.

Even after witnessing me at my most hostile and being made aware of some of the depth of our deception, she stayed. Not only that, but she also met me downstairs when I got home from patrol after the Meetup, bandaged my wrist, and fucking bathed me before tucking me in. The only conclusion I could draw was that Sean had prepared her—and well. Well enough to the point that when he left the next morning, she chose to stay at the house for, and to be with me. A day I’ve re-lived with my right hand through one too many cold showers.

“It rains a lot here.”

The weather in the days since has made a liar out of me. Evidence by way of the sun’s rays currently lighting the room in the reflection of my bathroom mirror. Razor poised an inch from my face, I glare down at Sean’s spitz, Brandy, who whines just inside my bathroom door.

“What the hell do you want?” I snap. She replies with an order-filled bark. Sighing, I rest my razor on the sink and jog the solid white hairball downstairs to the sliding glass door. Opening it enough to let the dog through, the heated summer wind breezes in as a reminder that the season has set in. Brandy races toward Cecelia, who’s wearing the bikini I rid her of the first time I fucked her. Her back to me, she’s bent over, pert ass thrust in the air in offering. I inwardly groan as Sean yells instructions from the side of the house, realizing the reasoning for her positioning as she moves a sprinkler.

“A little closer to the fence,” he shouts.

“Here?” She asks.

“Yeah. That’s good, Pup.”

“Is the water on?” She scrutinizes the arched metal bar full of holes. “It’s not working.” As she further lowers to inspect the sprinkler, her bikini shifts, revealing a heaping handful of ass cheek.

This. Fucking. Girl.

Temptation mocks me mere feet away, along with the knowledge that there’s not a drop of fucking rain in the forecast anytime soon. Each time I pull up the weather app, I hate myself a little more for it. The summer sun has decided there’s no relief in the future for little Dom, who’s currently growing three sizes too big in my boxers at the sight of a beautiful girl. A girl I now know a lot more intimately after a solid day in bed together but crave to fuck like it would be the first time.

“Now?” Sean asks.

“Nope,” Cecelia calls back to him as I imagine a half dozen scenarios to approach her with how she’s situated. She might not have run, but she did lay out ground rules. Ground rules I start to resent her for as the throb continues in my boxer briefs.

“Huh,” I hear Sean say, knowing that tone. “Crank the dial up and see if that works.”

“This thing looks ancient,” she shouts, “It’s probably broken, okay, try it—” her shout turns into a shriek as she’s soaked by Sean’s design. Sean’s deep laughter rings out as she scolds him with an “asshole!”

Brandy begins to bark at the offensive sprinkler, the dumbest damned dog in existence, which is why I mostly ignore the fact that she does exist.

“I’m going to cut and trim out front. Give me about thirty minutes.”

“K,” she calls, bending to pet Brandy as she eyes the sprinkler fanning water over the yard. Expression lightening, she stands and sprints toward the fence before turning and running to leap over it, soaking herself, a shriek bursting out of her.

Images of Sean, Tyler, and me doing the same when we were rugrats shutters in. As she makes another pass in my direction, the sight of her so full of carefree joy has my chest tightening. Despite her physical allure, she’s the picture of purity. Even if she experienced enough during her start with her parents to be just as jaded as I’ve become, she isn’t. It’s by choice that she embraces the lighter side of living, whereas I welcome the dark, dwelling amongst the shadows and manipulating them to suit.

Like me, Brandy stands by observing her, equally captivated by what makes her tick, in an attempt to try and understand her.

Cecelia continues to run back and forth through the waves of water, urging Brandy to join her.

“Come on, girl,” she coos, running back and forth in demonstration. When Brandy joins in, leaping over the sprinkler in time with her, Cecelia’s melodic laughter crashes into my chest, further widening the crack she’s managed to create.

Disgusted that I’m inching toward creeper status after watching one too many passes, the half of my face covered in mentholated shaving cream begins to burn. Ripping my eyes away from her, I make my way back upstairs. Patting my face down with a damp towel a few minutes later, I spot the summer of my discontent staring back at my reflection.

“Hi,” she whispers, her eyes rolling appreciatively down my frame.

Hi?

Hi?

I narrow my return gaze on her.

If this is hard-up, I’m not going through it alone.

Turning, I grip her wrist, yanking her into the bathroom. Palming the wall next to her head, I crowd her as I trace the droplets of water skating down her glowing skin. Her eyes search mine for a reason for my aggression, but my cock lets her know as it salutes her and remains at attention—pointing straight at her. When she opens her mouth to speak, I press my finger against her lips as Sean cranks the mower outside. Her chest rises and falls as I lower my gaze to her pink-painted toes while deciding my course of action.

Gripping her shoulders, I position her in front of the toilet before shutting the lid and taking a seat. Draping the damp towel over my lap, I gather the rest of my supplies from the counter. Flicking on the faucet to refresh the water, I plug it before switching it off and lifting her foot, resting it on my knee. Wordless, Cecelia rattles in anticipation in front of me while I dispense some shaving cream into my hand.

Palm full, I slowly begin to cover every inch of her leg and thigh as I speak. “It takes an average of twenty minutes to ready a woman to the point of orgasm.” Scraping the blade from her ankle up to her calf, I swish it in the sink and tap it twice before running it from above her knee to her thigh. A harsh exhale escapes her as I look up to see her dark blues hooding.

Once I’ve made a few passes, I swish the razor through before again tapping away any lingering excess.

Swish. Tap. Tap.

“Unfortunately, for women, twenty minutes of stamina is pretty average for a man, which would make our creator seem like one cruel motherfucker,” I scrape another path up the length of her leg, “if said creator hadn’t given us ways to remedy that. You see . . .,” I glide the razor along the ridge of her leg, “what most men don’t know—or give a damn enough to know—is that said creator did give us a number of efficient ways to get a woman where she needs to be. In fact, there are thirty ways . . . or more, depending on the woman.”

Swish. Tap. Tap.

Knowing I have her undivided attention, I glance up and can’t help smirking at the rapid rise and fall of her chest. “Should we try a few of them out?”

She nods half a dozen times as I resume.

“It’s sad, really, that most men think of a tight fit as a reward, and for some, it’s inevitable due to the size and girth of the male anatomy, but not all are as blessed as others.” My own blessing agrees with a jerk as I make it a point to exhale along her freshly shaved skin, and goosebumps erupt. “But considering what a woman’s anatomy is capable of, a tight fit is often a sign that the prep work wasn’t done properly.”

Swish. Tap. Tap.

“There’s the inner thigh,” I scrape the razor up to the top of her thigh as she palms my shoulders to steady herself. “This crease at the top of it,” I run my thumb along the sensitive skin just below her bikini bottom from her ass cheek to her hip as her soft pants begin to fill the bathroom. “The armpit.”

Swish. Tap. Tap.

“There’s the ears, the stomach, and the hands.” Pausing the razor, I lift one of the hands resting on my shoulder and pinch her pressure point as I gently brush my lips along the entirety of her palm, including the pads of each finger. She exhales my name as I draw the towel from my lap and pat away the excess cream. Brushing the tips of each pinky along her newly sensitive skin as I towel her off, her eyes close when the first moan escapes her.

“Such a beautiful, sunny day,” I remind her of her fucking rules. Rules that hinder me from acting on any scenario in which my throbbing dick gains access to the heaven lingering inches from my face. Rules I respect and will continue to, but hate at the moment. She runs a hand through my hair as I turn her palm up, licking slowly along her wrist, catching her speeding pulse beating against my tongue.

“Then there’s the crook of the arm.” I demonstrate by sinking my teeth into the skin opposite her elbow, which earns me a more drawn-out moan.

Noted.

Bringing her other foot into my lap, I glance up to see the lust in her eyes. Her plump lips part as I tamp down the demand raging in my boxers.

“The bottom of the foot.” Roughly, I run my thumb along the arch. “The Achilles tendon,” I squeeze the back of her heel before moving up, pinching the tendon between my fingers as her nails dig into my shoulders.

“Between the toes,” I whisper heatedly, painstakingly brushing a finger between the soft pads of her grass-covered toes.

“The inside of the ankle.” Bending as I lift hers, I run my tongue along the outer bone to the inside before clamping down and sucking lightly. This has my name whispered with more urgency from her lips.

Noted.

Dispensing more cream into my hand, I run it up her toned leg covering every bit of skin. Her fingers dig into my scalp in demand. “Scalp, too,” I say, stopping her explorative hand and placing it back on my shoulder before making several long swipes with the razor.

Swish. Tap. Tap.

“Dom, please,” she whispers.

“Not in the forecast.” Feigning indifference, I run the blade along her vibrating inner thigh. Using my free hand, I palm her stomach, spreading my fingers in a caress before running it up her torso and stroking between her perfect tits. One by one, I move the triangle-shaped curtains covering her hard nipples, exposing them to the air steadily blowing down from the overhead AC vent.

“Obviously, the breasts, which is a more in-depth process . . .”

“Dom, I—”

“But we’ll get to those,” I cut in.

Swish. Tap. Tap.

Shaving the rest of the path away, I slowly massage away any remaining cream. The second I lower the towel, she takes a step toward me, and I palm her stomach, slowly inching her back. “We’re not done.”

Rapt, she watches me refill my hand with a small amount of shaving cream before I pinch the top of her bikini bottom between my fingers. Pulling up, I expose her clearly defined tan lines while wedging the material between her pussy lips.

The sight of it has my cock jerking again in time with her rough intake of breath. Hooking and holding the bound material with my pointer, I lower my thumb and gently brush it along the top of her landing strip. “The mons Venus.”

Using two fingers, I gently apply the cream on the sides of her bikini line before picking up my razor. When I press it to her skin, her breath stops altogether. “I need—”

“If only it were raining,” I taunt, making my first swipe.

Swish. Tap. Tap.

“We can—”

“Shhh,” I whisper, taking great care as I run the razor gently along the sides of her pussy. “Then we have the lips . . . but there are more than one set,” I whisper, “actually, there’s three. The ones you gloss, and the others,” I smirk up at her, “I gloss.”

Blue waves of fire reflect back at me, the torrent tide threatening to sweep me in. Chest heaving when I wipe her freshly shaved pussy free of any remnants, I feel the snap in her before she speaks.

“Fuck the weather,” she declares, straddling me on the toilet seat. She thrusts a demanding tongue in my mouth, and I deny her before swiping my own along her pouting lips. Taking advantage of the fact she’s firmly wrapped around me, I lift and back her toward my bed. Gently depositing her, I take a few minutes to revisit the spots she appreciated most before I start to tick off the ones I hadn’t yet gotten to.

The trimmer sounds up outside, giving me a timeline as I prop on my side next to where she lays flat. Chest heaving, pupils dilated, her body hums in response to every single touch.

“Where were we?” I ask, running a finger along her neck before sucking the skin behind her earlobe.

“The lips,” she rasps into my ear as I stifle another smile. After tracing her mouth, I slide two fingers between her parted lips with my order, “show me how wet you are.” She pulls them in deep, sucking feverishly as my cock threatens to self-destruct.

Fingers soaked—but knowing I didn’t need the help—I slide my palm from her breastbone, down her stomach, and into her bikini bottoms only to confirm it. She’s drenched. Gathering the wetness seeping from her core, I spread my fingers into a V and, with the pads of them, start lazily sweeping them from the bottom of her outer lips, tracing them to the top.

Gripping my head for a kiss, I deny her, and her back arches as pleas start to pour from her mouth. Taking special care not to graze her clit, her hips begin to buck for friction. It’s when I glimpse the sheen of sweat covering her that I know I’ve got her hyperaware and ready.

Bypassing her nipples, I suck the skin of her breasts—the skin less sensitive but still stimulative.

“Dom, please, please,” she rasps out.

“Trust me,” I murmur, watching my fingers as her pussy weeps for me, her chest bouncing as I start to trace lazy circles around her areolas, avoiding her taut nipples.

She cries out when I dip further in, tracing her inner pussy lips, satisfied as she thoroughly soaks my fingers.

“Like our filthy little experiment?” I taunt as she writhes beneath me.

“Oh, God,” she stutters, “Dom, p-p-lease, please!”

“Your clit is pulsing,” I whisper hoarsely, not bothering to hide the heat in my voice, my cock straining against her leg, “and that’s because you’re concentrating on where you think you need me to touch you. But you don’t. Watch my tongue, Cecelia.” The whole of her body shudders when I repeatedly thrash my tongue against her nipple. Her moans become more desperate, her legs shaking against the forearm that I’m moving between her thighs. Stopping my fingers, I use my pointer and dip a little further to rim the opening of her pussy before sucking her pebbled nipple into my mouth. A surprised gasp leaves her when she starts to come undone a second later.

“Let go,” I order around the nipple clenched between my teeth before pulling it in and sucking, hard.

“Oh fuck,” she cries out, her sounds cut by her rapid breaths as she convulses. The sight of it is so fucking hot that my dick weeps. As she comes down, she stares up at me with kaleidoscope eyes in varying shades of deep blue, and I rest my palm to cradle the side of her face, gently sweeping my thumb along her hairline.

“That was . . .” she looks up at me in wide-eyed wonder, “that was crazy,” she whispers before a gradual, lazy smile lights her face. “I can’t believe I came . . . like that.”

“That’s because the most important erogenous zone is here,” I double-tap her temple with the pad of my thumb before sliding it along her delicate cheek. “You were halfway there because of how attracted we are to each other and because of how incredible it feels when we do fuck.”

Pupils dilated, her eyes soften as she sinks into my mattress, and I soak up every bit of the aftermath in her expression. “That’s how it feels for you? Incredible?”

“Yeah, it does,” I admit, which is why my dick hates me for the moment. The words are starting to come a lot easier, and worse, starting to flow out of me unchecked. The sound of the trimmer cutting off signals that time is up as I pull the top of her bikini back into place. “Dom, that was . . . seriously the hottest thing ever, and don’t take this the wrong way, but . . . I’m still aching for you.”

“That’s not going away anytime soon. For either of us.”

Her answering smile serves as a battering ram in my chest. Lifting her to stand, I turn her toward my door and slap her ass hard enough for it to sting.

“Ouch.” She glances back, palming and rubbing her ass to soothe the reddened skin. “That stung.”

“Good. And just so you know, the next time you come into my room on a day that doesn’t belong to me, you’re getting fucked with extreme prejudice. Oh, and . . . hi.”