It’s been torture since.
Especially since she decided to run in just her leggings and sports bra, despite being cold. Her nipples are harder than the pebbles under our feet.
“And what if someone offers you a gift? Do you take it?” I ask.
We slow down as we reach Harrogate. Hands on her hips, she says, “No, I kick them in the face and run away.” I give her a menacing look. “Come on, Keller, I know this shit. Yes, I take the gift. I thank them profusely. Are you done with the dumb questions now?” She blows past me and into the castle.
I follow her. “They aren’t dumb questions. You need to know them.”
She stomps up the stairs. “I know them, Keller.”
I stomp up behind her and follow her into her bedroom.
“And for the record, you’ve told me that tiaras are for married women only at least five times on that run.” She tears her sports bra off over her head, leaving her topless in front of me. I’d like to say I don’t look, but breasts . . . I look. I look for far longer than I should.
But then I snap my eyes back up to her face as she strips off the rest of her clothes.
“I repeated it several times because you kept asking what kind of gems were in the tiaras. You emphasized that you look best with jade colors.”
“That’s a valid concern,” she says, holding her arms out, and with the curtains now open, offering light to the room, I get to see her naked body with nothing blocking my view. And fuck is she so goddamn beautiful. She moves past me and into the bathroom, where she turns on the water to the tub shower.
I follow her for some reason.
“It’s my job to make sure you know the correct information.”
“I know,” she groans. “Christ, Keller. I think the moss on the walls knows the intricacies of your job at this point.” She steps into the tub, picks up the nozzle of the shower, and starts rinsing her body. My eyes fixate on the way the water pebbles off her breasts.
It only takes seconds for me to grow hard.
“Is that what the rest of our time here is going to be like?” she asks as she sets the nozzle down and lathers some soap that she caresses over her body, her hands working around her breasts, over her stomach, and between her legs.
Fuck . . .
“Keller, I’m talking to you.”
“Huh?” I ask, looking up at her irritated face.
“Oh, so you can stand there and watch me shower, but when I want a kiss, you won’t give it up?”
I grip the back of my neck. “I’m trying to keep a professional distance.”
“Oh yeah, you’re really professional right now. More like a peeping Tom.”
“You’re right, sorry,” I answer before I turn toward my bedroom and slip into the dark space, my curtains not yet pulled back.
What am I doing?
Last night, I lost control. I tasted her, and for the entire jog, I was asking dumb questions because my mind couldn’t think of anything else as I watched her boobs bounce up and down next to me. All I could think about was how I’d had them in my mouth the night before. How they’d tasted, how she’d sounded when I sucked on them.
Or how it felt sliding along her clit.
Or her moans.
Or how her mouth tasted.
Fuck, I knew this was going to happen. One taste was all it took.
And then when I was saying good night, the slight sigh of relief when I kissed her one last time . . . I felt it all the way to the marrow of my bones.
So, what am I going to do now?
I clearly can’t concentrate properly, not the way that I need to.
But I know if I take another taste, that will be the end of me, there will be no turning back.
Fuck.
I grip my hair, pacing my room as I try to decide.
And then, when I look up, she’s standing in my doorway, a towel wrapped around her torso, looking so fuckable it’s painful.
“What are your training plans for today? I need to decide if I should wear a dress to practice formal dinner wear, or something more comfortable.” There’s so much snark coming out of her mouth right now, it makes me want to silence it with my dick.
“Crisis management,” I say.
“Oh, fun. That shouldn’t be boring at all.” She turns on her heel and heads into her bedroom.
“Wear something comfortable,” I call after her.
She peeks into the doorway. “Do you really think I’m that dumb?”
Jesus Christ. The fucking mood on her.
Can’t blame her, though. I didn’t kiss her. So, yeah, she’s going to be a wretched witch all day.