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Married in Vegas: In His Arms

Page 8

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Finally, after rolling his eyes he did what I asked.

“Turn the faucet on,” I said.

Mortification couldn’t cover my emotions if he heard me do the deed. Once the water was flowing, I sat with him only a foot or two away and prayed like hell he wouldn’t hear.

But noooo. Fate made me it’s bitch. A little fart no more than a dainty toot of air at the end had him nearly doubled over with laughter. I wanted to die.

My life was not only weird, but humiliating. I farted in front of Cam. What was worse was that my first thought was to call Eddie and tell him about it.

I tiptoed to the sink praying Cam was too busy chortling he wouldn’t look at me. Cherry red was most definitely my color.

“It’s nothing to worry about it, Chrissy.”

Soapy hands or not, I splashed him with water as embarrassment was erased by anger.

“Don’t call me that.”

I turned back and rinsed off my hands.

When I finished, I thought we would leave the bathroom and search for the damn key to the cuffs. I wanted badly for this nightmare to end.

Cam had other ideas. He opened the glass shower door and flicked the water on. It took maybe a second before a steam started to fog up the room.

“We are not taking a shower together,” I declared, prepared to stand my ground. “No F’ing way.” I shook my head.

He didn’t get the memo. Instead, he scooped me up. I let out a squeal as a memory flash from last night shot in my head.

He’d tossed me over his shoulder and set me down in an elevator. There wasn’t time for memory lane to set in as he put me down in the shower.

“You did kiss me,” I said, remembering that much.

It had been hotter than the water and, in my defense, had probably melting my panties off. That was my line and I would stick to it.

He rested his forearm over my head and leaned down. “You didn’t remember?”

“You lied.” I might have poked out my lip a little.

“About what?” he asked.

I wanted to say about owing him a kiss. I thought back over the words he’d spoken after Eddie left. When we’d talked about those missed opportunities between us, he’d said I owed him, nothing more. He’d never mentioned a kiss.

“Fine, you didn’t lie.”

That didn’t mean I was happy about any of it. Yet, I wanted him in the worst way.

The cool tiles he pressed me against absorbed the flames leaping off my heated skin. He crowded me as if he couldn’t bear to not have our skin touching.

“Let me help you remember,” he said.

He stole my breath with a scorching kiss that was red hot in the best way. His free hand molded to my breast squeezing with just enough pressure not to cause pain.

Pathetically, I moaned, loving the way his hand roamed down my body and in between my legs.

A loud thump stopped us short. I glanced down to see a thick bar of soap had landed on the tile floor.

“Let me get it,” I said, feeling a little wicked.

My voice came out throatier than I bargained for. But it was his daring eyes that had my knees bending as I sank to the ground. I reached a hand around him to get the soap and glanced up to meet his molten stare.

There before me, long and thick, was a treat I couldn’t ignore. I snaked out my tongue and easily licked the tip of him without moving the rest of my body.

When his eyes closed as if in prayer muttering a curse, I leaned in for the kill.

I wouldn’t be the only one a pile of need. I dropped the soap and used my hand to help guide him in my mouth and fisted the base of him. I pumped him up and down meeting my fist in the middle as he groaned. There was power in giving a blow job.

His fingers threaded through my wet hair as he began to move with me. I hollowed my checks and sucked as if I could draw the orgasm out of him. Abruptly, he pulled back and a little pop sounded as he was released from me.

The predatory gaze he laid on me would have made me afraid if I knew he wouldn’t ever hurt me. Then he bent down, scooped me up, and flatted me against the tiled wall. I let out a little squeak as he buried that heavenly cock of his, so deep, I wouldn’t be surprised if we were joined for life.

“Fuck, you’re tight” he muttered, but I might have said the same thing if I’d had the ability to speak.

The stretching of my insides was both pleasure and pain. His cock might have won prizes for it size and length. I could feel remnants of an ache that only reminded me this wasn’t our first go.



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