“What…” Oh God. Oh God. “What was your favorite version of me?” And how do I compare in real life?
“They were all my favorite. And none of them compare to the real thing. You’re the most gorgeous creature to grace this earth. Do you even realize that?”
Hardly. But it’s nice to hear. When Glitch works his magic on me, I almost believe it.
“Take a shower with me.” He glares at me through the mirror. I gotta admit, we look like a dynamite couple. His dark hair and inked, muscular body make one mighty backdrop for my soft curves and bright pink hair. I don’t have any tattoos. Shocking, right? I’d like to get them one day, but want to work on the piece myself, which I haven’t been inspired to do at all. Plus, that shit costs money and all my dollars go to paint and rent.
“I don’t want to shower.”
“Why not?” He doesn’t back off. Instead, he runs his knuckles along my rib cage, making my belly flutter.
“I don’t want to wash you off me yet.”
“Fuuuck, Ara.” He drops his head back and his chest expands as he breathes. “Take a shower with me and I’ll make you a mess again afterwards.”
“Promise?”
“Swear it.”
I give in and let him wash me and he even shaves my legs. It’s sensual and methodical. Just like Glitch.
When I step out of the shower, he’s ready with a towel and starts drying me off, even though I tell him I’m perfectly capable of doing it myself.
“Just shut up and let me take care of you, Kitty.”
I groan when he dries me off and rubs my hair until it’s all tangled. “You’re giving me knots!”
“You’ll survive.” He slaps my ass and makes me squeak. “I like you all tussled and wild looking.”
“Ugh.” I start finger-combing it. Okay, it’s not too awful. And he has really great shampoo and conditioner, which helps.
As I fix myself up, Glitch watches in the mirror. Then he bumps my ass with his thigh, nudging me closer to the counter. “Spread your legs for me, Kitty.”
I obey. My heart kicks up, and I hold my breath. Glitch squats down, and I look back at him. He cracks my ass with a hard slap. “Face forward and look at yourself.”
Glitch spread my ass cheeks apart and my immediate reaction is to tense. I don’t even know what it might look like back there.
“Relax,” he growls, his hot breath heating my flesh. “And enjoy.”
That man spreads my ass cheeks obscenely and licks me. There. Like right… right there. Sooo right there and holy fucking shit balls on a stick. I bend forward, grunting like an animal about it. It feels insanely good. And when he reaches between my legs and rubs my clit while his tongue circles my tight hole, it feels even better.
My hands press against the mirror.
I come until my eyes cross.
When he rises, I’m still trying to catch my breath. I gawk at my steamed over reflection. He bumps into my backside and reaches over me to swipe his big hand across the condensation and stares at my reflection. “Mine,” he growls. Then he spits into his palm and starts to jerk off behind me.
I can’t move. I can’t breathe. I can’t do anything but watch my man get off and when he spurts his cum all over my backside, I swear to fuck I nearly purr about it. I wanted to be messy from him all day and he’s delivered.
With a satisfied smirk, he slaps my ass again. I turn and catch his wrist. There’s a bit of his cum on his palm and there’s no way I’m letting it go to waste. I bring his hand to my mouth and lick it off.
“Fuuuuck, Ara.”
“It’s Kitty to you.”
He smashes his mouth to mine and carries me back into the bedroom.
At this rate, we’re never getting back to work.
I think I’m okay with that.
Chapter 20
Glitch
I manage to peel myself away from Ara long enough to get her dressed, to her studio, and myself to work. It sucks but knowing I’m picking her up later and going to Erin’s for tacos makes it bearable.
I’m addicted to the woman.
I can’t wait to see her again. Get my hands on her. My mouth. My dick. It’s been six hours and I’m dying over here.
“Heyyyy, Kitty.”
She giggles on the other end of the phone. I’m in the back of my shop, door closed, and though I want to jerk off on the phone with her, I won’t because I’m not here alone and can’t risk it.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“Painting. What are you doing?”