An American Cinderella

When I was done with dinner, he said, “You start the water for your shower. I’ll take care of the dishes.”

“You don’t have to do that,” I told him, already pulling the empty containers together.

“Why do you think I said that we weren’t using plates?” he replied with a smile. “Easiest dishes ever, remember?”

I chuckled and let him take the empty containers away from me. He quickly collected them and swept them into the trash bin before I had a chance to do much more than watch.

“Now, shower,” he said, motioning his head toward my bathroom.

“I know, I stink,” I replied with a grin. I loved the way he grinned back at me.

I stood up, feeling far calmer than I had all day, and looked over at him. He was carefully boxing up the last of our leftovers, his eyes focusing on his work. He was so damn handsome in that moment. He wore tan slacks and a button up blue dress shirt, yet he looked comfortable. He turned, his hair catching the light, and he raised his eyebrows.

“What is it?” he asked, straightening from the table.

“You want to join me?” I bit my lip, hoping that he would say yes. I wanted to see his beautiful body and a shower seemed like a good excuse. I wasn’t sure how long he was staying tonight. He was obviously dressed for work and I didn’t want to interfere with his business.

But I did want him to take my mind off of things in other ways than just food.

A slow, cocky smile crossed his face as he sauntered around the table. “You want me to join you for a shower?” he asked. He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear as his bright eyes looked me over. One arm wrapped around my waist, drawing me into him.

I nodded, my lip still caught between my teeth.

He glanced in the direction of my tiny bathroom. “You think it will fit both of us?”

I grinned, knowing that was as good as a yes. “It’ll be tight, but I think you’ll fit.”

His eyes darkened as they came back to me. “You know I like tight.”

Sexual energy fluttered up from between my legs and wrapped around my core. I loved the way his hips pressed against mine. I could already feel his heat calling to me.

I went up on my tiptoes and pressed my mouth to his. He hummed with pleasure, opening his mouth and tasting me.

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” he whispered.

Taking my hand, he led me to the bathroom. I followed behind him, happy to let him take charge. He turned on the tap, checking it with the back of his hand to make sure it was the correct temperature before turning to face me.

His smile was kind but his eyes shone with desire. He reached for my front, his fingers finding the buttons to my shirt. Carefully, he undid each one, his attention focused solely on the buttons. He slid the fabric from my shoulders and my shirt fell to the floor.

His eyes dilated as he looked at me. One finger traced the curve of my shoulder before coming to my bra strap.

“You’re better at this part,” he said, his voice gruff with desire. I reached behind me and undid the clasp, holding the bra cups to my chest for a moment before letting the flesh-colored garment hit the floor.

He breathed out slowly, obviously trying to stay in control as he looked at my naked top half. I loved the way his eyes caressed every curve of my body. When he looked at me, I didn’t see flaws. I saw sexiness. If this was how models felt walking down the runway, I could see why they strutted.

His jaw tightened as he reached for my belt. He undid the clasp, then the button to my pants, followed by the zipper. Every movement was careful.

He tugged my dirty pants down, leaving me in just my silky underwear. He let out a slow breath, his eyes glued to the pale blue triangle of fabric. He swallowed hard before reaching forward, his fingers touching my hips as he slid the panties down.

Steam filled my small bathroom, yet it was nothing compared to the fire building inside of me. His every touch sent shivers of want skittering across my nerves.

In a series of utilitarian and practiced movements, he stripped his own clothes. The shirt fell nearly on top of his pants and he was naked before me in less than a few seconds. I raised my eyebrows at him, impressed at the speed.

“Military,” he said with a shrug and a grin. “You get more shower time if you can change fast.”