Page 46 of Wicked Angel
And a man standing by the foot of the bed. Naked.
I knew that tattooed back; the giant, coiled blue serpent with black wings. I’d seen it often from Shayla’s windows, out by the pool.
I was staring at Johnny O’Reilly’s tight, naked ass as he stood looking down at the phone in his hand. My bucket crashed to the ground, cleaning supplies clattering across the rug as I dropped the whole damn thing.
He startled, looking at me.
My mouth dropped open and my face lit on fire.
“Uh! I haven’t…! I didn’t…!” I backed up, stammering out a few unfinished protests before bumping against the door frame. “Um, I’ll come back!” I darted down to grab the bucket and whatever I could shove back into it, trying not to look at him. He’d turned a bit when I dropped the bucket andI saw his cock. “I mean, when you’re not here!”
I was blind.
The image of his bare ass and side dick were scorched into my eyeballs and I groped around for the door, fumbling my way out, sweating.
I raced downstairs, heat coursing through me. I ran into the guest bathroom and splashed cold water at my eyes. “No! No no no no no. You didn’t.”
Oh, but you did,said Mean Me.And it looked gooooooood.
No.
No.
I’d basically spent the last many years of my life avoiding any kind of situation where Johnny O’s naked dick and I might make one another’s acquaintance.
But Jesus Christ, he had a hot ass. And his soft dick was… thick.
I swallowed the saliva that pooled in my mouth.
Not happening. Major mistake.
I’d made mistakes with men my whole damn life, and I wasn’t making this one. I didn’t even trust myself to get anywhere near that man’s dick. It was all about taking care of myself right now, getting my life on track, and Johnny O’Reilly’s dick was not on the menu.
Even if he offered it up.
I looked into my eyes in the mirror and saw how flustered I was. I looked hungry. Starving. And sad. And just stupid enough to make another major mistake.
You know he might offer it up. If you give him even the hint of an opportunity.
You have to be strong here, Angie.
I collected myself and got cleaning the bathroom with determination.
When that was done, I went out to the kitchen. I started cleaning in there.
Then I saw Johnny’s naked feet coming down the floating stairs. At least he was dressed now—in nothing but a pair of joggers. They were just thin enough that his dick bounced around under the soft fabric when he walked, and just loose enough that they clung low on his hips and the swell of his muscular ass, showing off the mouthwatering curves and planes of his would-be-illegal-in-some-countries waist/groin area.
It was stunningly obvious that he wasn’t wearing underwear.
Good God.
When he reached the bottom of the stairs, our eyes met across the open space.
I returned my attention to sorting out the empties that covered the countertops for the recycling bins. A shiver ran down my back as he crossed behind me.
“The layout is different than Shayla’s,” I said, trying to keep my voice from wavering.
“What?” His voice was rough and raw. Probably how he sounded first thing in the morning. While having morning sex.
