I have time for a shower, so I set the kitchen timer for one hour, grab my wine, and walk down the hallway to the master bedroom, passing Nate’s office. His door is open, and he’s at the desk with the phone cradled between his ear and shoulder, and he’s typing furiously on his keyboard.
“No, fuck that, they’ll never accept that offer,” he snaps, but his eyes soften when he sees me in the doorway.
“Dinner’s still a couple hours away. I’m hitting the shower,” I whisper.
“Hold on, Parker.” He pushes the receiver against his shoulder so Parker can’t hear him. “Okay, baby. What is that noise coming out of my speakers out there?”
“Cooking music.” I shrug innocently, blow him a kiss and saunter into the bathroom, stripping as I adjust the water temperature in his amazing shower. This bathroom is beautiful, and the shower is big enough to host a small orgy with a large rain shower-head in the ceiling. It feels incredible.
Thankfully, Nate’s sound system is wired throughout the whole condo, except his office, so I’m shimmying my hips and singing along to Pocket Full Of Sunshine as I lather up my hair. I lean my head back and let the hot water flow over me, rinsing my hair. The soapy lather falling down my back and over my breasts, bottom and legs feels so good on my skin, still sensitive from today’s workout, and my hands glide over my breasts, the nipples puckering on contact.
Mmm… pitty Nate has so much work tonight. I could use some company. He’s very inventive in the shower.
John Mayer starts to sing through the speakers about my body being a wonderland, and my hands start to slide all over my torso, one wandering closer to the homeland.
I perch one foot on a bench built into the tile and slide my hand between my legs, pushing my fingers between my folds, and imagine that it’s Nate’s fingers making me crazy. My other hand plucks at a nipple and suddenly Nate is behind me, his body pressed to mine, his arms wrapped around me and I jump, startled. I was so wrapped up in my little fantasy I didn’t hear him join me.
“Don’t stop,” he whispers in my ear. “Keep touching yourself.”
I shake my head and lean back against his chest, suddenly shy. He nibbles my neck and grabs my hand in his, guiding it back down between my legs.
“Want me to help?”
“Yes,” I sigh and arch my back as he pushes my fingers through my folds again, rubbing back and forth and up over my clit, then back down to my labia.
“Oh, God,” I moan. It feels so good, and just a little naughty. I try to pull my hand away to let him continue on his own, but he grabs it again in a firm hold.
“You don’t know what it does to me to see you pleasure yourself, Julianne.” His words are soft, hypnotizing and so sexy, and I can feel his hard-on against my ass. Our hands continue their assault, and he presses my palm against my clit and bites that spot on my neck, just behind my ear, and I feel my body start to shudder. I come against our hands, rocking and pushing against them, crying out his name.
Nate spins me around and pins me against the cold tile wall, leaning his torso against me, his cock pressed to my belly, and his lips are on mine, kissing me voraciously. I run my hands over his sides to his back and down to cup his very fine, very firm ass in my hands and squeeze.
“I need to be inside you,” he growls and cups my ass to lift me. “Wrap your legs around me, baby.” I do and he eases himself inside me, slowly, his forehead leaning against mine, gray eyes burning with lust and need. I tangle his wet hair in my fingers and hold on as he begins to ease himself in and out of me, faster and faster, our breathing ragged and harsh. His eyes never leave mine as he pushes and pulls harder, faster, and I feel my legs clench tighter around him, another orgasm moving though me.
“Come on, baby, give it to me,” he whispers against my lips, and his words are my undoing.
“Oh, God, Nate!” I pulsate around him, milking his cock and those amazing silver balls with my * and he bites his lower lip, then clenches his teeth as I feel him fall over the edge, his hips grinding into mine, hands gripping my ass so tightly it must be bruising me, as he comes inside me.
He holds me there, against the wall, for a long minute, both of us gasping for air, gazing at each other. I rhythmically run my fingers through his hair and he places his lips gently on mine, brushing back and forth, kissing me sweetly.
“You are so sweet,” he murmurs. “You’re mine, do you understand? No matter what happens. You. Are. Mine.” His eyes and voice are raw with emotion, and I feel tears prick the sides of my eyes.
“Yes,” I whisper. “I’m yours, Nate.” Where is this coming from?
He shudders one more time and slips out of me, gently lowering me back to my feet. He cups my face in his hands and runs his nose down along mine before kissing me chastely and pulling away, shutting off the water, and leading me out of the cavernous shower to dry off.
“What in God’s name is this music?” he asks with a scowl. Fergie is singing Glamorous.
“Hey, I love this song.” I smack his ass as I walk past him to his bedroom to root through my suitcase for clothes.
“Your taste in music sucks, baby.” He pulls a black t-shirt over his head, and then steps into a pair of old worn blue jeans. No underwear.
“I like listening to happy music while I cook,” I explain calmly.
“Rock is happy.” He plants his hands on his hips and watches me pull on my jeans and a blue tunic top.
“So is this.” I shrug and walk past him into the bathroom to blow my hair dry and secure it back in a ponytail.
“Why are you watching me?” I ask.
“I like watching you.” He responds, leaning against the door frame with his arms crossed over his chest.
“Are you done working?” I ask.
“No, I have a few more calls to make.”
“Do you need any help?” I feel guilty. I’m sure there’s something I can do to help. He’s my boss, for Pete’s sake.
“No, I’ve got it. I’ll have some things for you at the office in the morning.”
“Okay.” Happy with my hair, I turn and lean my bottom against the vanity and gaze at him. “Is this getting weird for you?”