Wicked Love | √

Thirty Five

PRESTON does exactly what I ask. He takes me inside.

He then does exactly what he said and he gives me a large glass of water as he makes me a perfectly golden grilled cheese. It's warm and gooey and helps to soak away the last bit of alcohol still lingering in my system.

But we don't shower.

Instead Preston walks straight past his large walk-in shower and towards the large marble tub at the back of his bathroom, and begins to mess with a touchpad installed in the wall beside it. He taps the screen a few times and the water begins to flood the tub instantly.

He turns and walks over to me. He doesn't speak as he quietly backs me into the counter until I'm practically leaning into the sink. His eyes are a sparkling contradiction. Dark with mischief, but they slowly begin to brighten as they intently focus on me.

My eyes flicker over to see the water continue to rush into the tub. "It's starting to get full," I comment before I return my attention to Preston.

But he ignores my words. "Take your clothes off Jameson." The firm order makes my entire body tense and then melt as if a volcano has exploded inside me and now the lava is actively traveling through my veins.

My eyes scan his clothed body as his dark demands spur my own cravings. It's been too long since I've last seen Preston's chest. His tattoo. The words he permanently marked on his skin for me, and suddenly now it's all I can think about. "Take your shirt off first," I breathe out desperately.

His chest moves quickly as if he's as affected as I am. As if he's as wrapped up in this moment as I am. When we are together it's as if we can only see each other. Feel each other. I don't know what it is about him that ignites a hunger so deep from within me that it's all I can think about.

"What do you want to see Davenport?" he asks softly over the rush of the water. His use of my last name heating my entire body.

"Your tattoo," I murmur before sinking my teeth into my bottom lip to suppress a needy whimper.

"Show me yours." His words come out sharp with an edge that forces my stomach to flip. He leans forward letting his arms cage me in forcing my chest to arch and brush against his stoking the fire sparking to life inside me.

His lips brush against my jaw making me shiver before landing near my ear. "You were so sexy in the car," he rasps.

His words and lips coax me into a haze as I slowly start to unbutton my jeans and lower the zipper. "I wanted to touch you so bad," I moan as his teeth sink into the lobe of my ear.

My fingers hook into the waistband of my jeans and underwear before I shimmy them around my hips and down my legs. I then kick them free leaving my lower body naked.

The steam from the hot water filling the tub begins to dance around us making the air feel headier than it already is.

His fingers reach out to trace the pitchfork delicately tattooed on my pantyline. It's healed nicely and makes me feel a touch stronger some days. My entire body trembles at his touch. His eyes meet mine and they shine with something dark and needy, and with a hint of something deeper that makes my skin flush and the space between my thighs ache.

His fierce look only makes me feel even more uninhibited. Makes me starved for more. My fingers clench around the front of his shirt, unable to stop myself.

"Lift your arms," I demand back and his eyes darken to a level that is reminiscent of lust night which almost sends me over the edge.

He follows my order without hesitation or any games this time. My hands ravenously tear his shirt over his head.