on the floor below them, Robert was probably sound asleep with his arm around some other woman. Sara shut that thought from her mind. That relationship had been sinking for a while now. When she left here and had the time to really think about it, then it was probably going to hurt more. Right now , though, she just didn’t want to dwell on it.
Moving slowly, carefully, she picked up Jackson’s arm and slid out from under it. She was almost able to sit up when his snores suddenly ceased, becoming a single, deeply drawn breath. His eyes cracked open, and then he hooked his arm back around her waist and drew her snugly down to lie with him again.
“I’m going to bust your ass,” he mumbled. “Where do you think you’re going?”
“I have to use the bathroom,” she whispered.
He grunted once, considering that, then swore under his breath. “Me, too. Fine.” He released her, giving her bottom a sharp slap. “You have five minutes, and then I’m coming in after you. What time is it?”
She glanced at the clock on his bedside table. “Just after eight.” She slipped naked from the bed, her bare feet padding whisper-soft from area rug onto hard stone and back onto another area rug as she crossed from the bedroom into the bathroom.
“Buses don’t come until noon,” she heard him mutter just before she shut the door. “Your ass is mine for another four hours.”
His tone made her shiver. She almost locked the door. Her finger hovered over the button for half a second before she changed her mind. She worked really hard at not examining her reason for why, but she was standing at the shower with her fingers held under the warming spray when Jackson meandered into the bathroom in nothing but his boxers.
Morning wood, piss hard-on—whatever you wanted to call it, on Jackson it was just as impressive as the rest of him. Funny how, in a dungeon setting there was no such thing as shyness, but in the intimacy of a morning after, in a bathroom with a man she considered to be her best friend, she blushed like a schoolgirl and quickly looked away.
“Is it okay to take the cuffs off?” she asked.
“No. They can get wet. Go ahead. Get in the tub.”
Apparently, morning-after shyness was not a “guy thing.” Jackson had no issue with bellying up to the toilet while she was standing there. Yawning and lifting the lid, he finagled his uncooperative cock out of his boxers and struggled to bend it into the right direction. Sara scrambled into the shower and drew the curtain so she wouldn’t have to watch. She was embarrassed enough for both of them just having to listen to it.
All too soon, she heard the toilet lid descend again. He yawned again, and then dropped his boxers completely. His shadow splashed across the plastic curtain an instant before he pushed it open and slipped in behind her.
It lurked right on the tip of her tongue, the urge to say something completely stupid, like, “What are you doing?” But when he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her back against his chest, it became too obvious for words. Under the warm streaming water, he nuzzled the side of her throat. He was so warm, so solid, and his arms around her held on as if she were the dearest of friends…as if he might even love her.
She wrapped her arms over his as he began to sway with her under the gentle spray. His hands wandered, following the dip and curve of her stomach to her hips. She enjoyed each tender caress right up until his hands parted and each wandered across her hips to find the opposing curves. The first time his palm skimmed from smooth skin onto scarred, she tried to block his hand, encouraging without words for him to return to the unmarred parts of her that she didn’t mind him touching.
“Stop that.” He caught her wrist and forcibly pulled her hand out of his way. Capturing her wayward arm in his right hand, he pinned it across her belly before returning his left to her left hip. His caresses remained
Moving slowly, carefully, she picked up Jackson’s arm and slid out from under it. She was almost able to sit up when his snores suddenly ceased, becoming a single, deeply drawn breath. His eyes cracked open, and then he hooked his arm back around her waist and drew her snugly down to lie with him again.
“I’m going to bust your ass,” he mumbled. “Where do you think you’re going?”
“I have to use the bathroom,” she whispered.
He grunted once, considering that, then swore under his breath. “Me, too. Fine.” He released her, giving her bottom a sharp slap. “You have five minutes, and then I’m coming in after you. What time is it?”
She glanced at the clock on his bedside table. “Just after eight.” She slipped naked from the bed, her bare feet padding whisper-soft from area rug onto hard stone and back onto another area rug as she crossed from the bedroom into the bathroom.
“Buses don’t come until noon,” she heard him mutter just before she shut the door. “Your ass is mine for another four hours.”
His tone made her shiver. She almost locked the door. Her finger hovered over the button for half a second before she changed her mind. She worked really hard at not examining her reason for why, but she was standing at the shower with her fingers held under the warming spray when Jackson meandered into the bathroom in nothing but his boxers.
Morning wood, piss hard-on—whatever you wanted to call it, on Jackson it was just as impressive as the rest of him. Funny how, in a dungeon setting there was no such thing as shyness, but in the intimacy of a morning after, in a bathroom with a man she considered to be her best friend, she blushed like a schoolgirl and quickly looked away.
“Is it okay to take the cuffs off?” she asked.
“No. They can get wet. Go ahead. Get in the tub.”
Apparently, morning-after shyness was not a “guy thing.” Jackson had no issue with bellying up to the toilet while she was standing there. Yawning and lifting the lid, he finagled his uncooperative cock out of his boxers and struggled to bend it into the right direction. Sara scrambled into the shower and drew the curtain so she wouldn’t have to watch. She was embarrassed enough for both of them just having to listen to it.
All too soon, she heard the toilet lid descend again. He yawned again, and then dropped his boxers completely. His shadow splashed across the plastic curtain an instant before he pushed it open and slipped in behind her.
It lurked right on the tip of her tongue, the urge to say something completely stupid, like, “What are you doing?” But when he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her back against his chest, it became too obvious for words. Under the warm streaming water, he nuzzled the side of her throat. He was so warm, so solid, and his arms around her held on as if she were the dearest of friends…as if he might even love her.
She wrapped her arms over his as he began to sway with her under the gentle spray. His hands wandered, following the dip and curve of her stomach to her hips. She enjoyed each tender caress right up until his hands parted and each wandered across her hips to find the opposing curves. The first time his palm skimmed from smooth skin onto scarred, she tried to block his hand, encouraging without words for him to return to the unmarred parts of her that she didn’t mind him touching.
“Stop that.” He caught her wrist and forcibly pulled her hand out of his way. Capturing her wayward arm in his right hand, he pinned it across her belly before returning his left to her left hip. His caresses remained
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