Wild Thing (Naughty Things 3)

She nods, smiling. Blushing. “Because it came from you. And none of the other stuff did.”

See? This is what I mean. Girls who are arrested for prostitution, pimping, and pandering don’t say shit like that. Not seriously. And she’s fucking serious, I can just tell.

I stand up and slip my hand under her hair. “Come here,” I whisper, pulling her towards me.

She presses her naked body against my clothed one and this time our kiss isn’t sweet. Our mouths are open before we even touch. Our tongues eager. Her fingers pop the button on my jeans, dragging the zipper down a moment later. And then she pulls me out.

I’m already hard for her.

She pumps me a few times, still kissing me. More desperate now. Breathing heavy to let me know she’s getting turned on. And then she begins lifting my shirt up my body with the exact same precision and slowness as I did hers.

I want her hands back on my cock, but I can’t have that if she’s taking her time. So I rip the shirt over my head and toss it on the ground. I bend down again, making her whimper, and lean in to kiss her stomach as I unlace my boots.

Then I stand up, grab her face with both hands and kiss her as I kick off my boots and her hands eagerly tug my jeans and boxer briefs down my legs.

Two seconds later we’re both naked and the steam pours out the open door of the shower, wrapping us up in a cloak of heat.

“Come with me,” I say through our kiss. Then back away, eyes locked on hers, as I take her hand and lead her into the shower.

She closes the door as she steps in and I adjust the water temperature so it’s hot, but not scalding.

I want to make sure to wash everything off her. That house. That room. Those clothes. Her fear. Everything.

I want her skin to be bright pink from the cleansing. A fresh start.

We walk under the water together and get wet. I spin her around so I can see her face as the water runs down her cheeks. She tilts her head up, eyes closed, and soaks her hair while I grab the shampoo bottle and squirt some into my palm. Then get behind her, pressing my cock up against the small of her back, and wash her hair.

“Wow.” She sighs. “That feels incredible. You’re going to spoil me even more than I already am.”

“No,” I say, lathering the ends of her long blonde hair up with frothy, coconut-scented bubbles. “I’ve realized something since I’ve gotten to know you.”

“What’s that?” she says, drawing in a deep breath.

“You haven’t been spoiled nearly enough.”

“Oh, please.” She laughs. “I didn’t even think to change my own sheets. It’s ridiculous. I don’t know why I did that.”

I do. But I don’t want to say it out loud.

“Don’t think it about anymore,” I say. “Now rinse.”

She turns around into the shower as I grab the liquid soap and squirt it into my hands, then reach around and wash her breasts first.

Hey, I’m a man. What can I say?

She leans back into my chest, the water spilling over both of us, and I back up so she doesn’t rinse off all my bubbles.

I want to take my time washing her. Do a very thorough job. I wash her belly next. Then her hips. She stands quietly while I bend down and rub my soapy hands up and down her thighs, teasing her a little as I almost dip between her legs, but don’t.

She hisses in a breath of air as I lather up her thighs, then wash each of her feet.

I do her arms and her shoulders next. Then pause with my hands on her throat. Wait for her to swallow and then close my eyes because that’s so fucking sexy.

When I’m done I stand in front of her and see if I missed any spots. Bubbles cover pretty much every inch of her body and she’s grinning at me with the most adorable smile. I just want to eat her up.

“OK,” I finally say. “I think you’re clean. Rinse.”

She steps forward into the water and washes off all my hard work and the lingering feeling of filth leftover from that house in the same instant. Then turns to face me and rinses her back.

She’s smiling. And she looks so different even though nothing has changed. She wasn’t really dirty, and yet… she sparkles like a new woman.

“My turn now,” she says, reaching for the bottle of soap.

I feel dirty from being in that house too, so I stand still and quiet as she lathers up my chest, keeping eye contact with me the whole time.

Who are you? That’s what I want to ask her. Where is that girl in the gold dress? The one who fights, and kicks, and screams.