SevenMarkPackAttackMobi (16 page)

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Authors: Carys Weldon

Tags: #Erotica

BOOK: SevenMarkPackAttackMobi
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Then he wrinkled his nose and said, “You better get your ass in the shower before they come out of there. Hood won’t want reminders.”

 
 

“I told him he stank.” Amber’s body language changed in an instant. She peeled herself off the couch and asked, “What’d ya get?”

 
 

I got up, too. “Amber said you went to get me some clothes. Thought I should wait until I had some clean ones to change into.”

 
 

She said, “Why don’t you go ahead and get in the shower. I’ll bring them into you.”

 
 

Frank said, “Get your others out of that room first.”

 
 

All three of us looked toward that bedroom doorway. From there, my shirt, slung, was visible. I went for it.

 
 

When I had all the rest of my things in arm, I paused to listen to the bathroom couple. The shower stopped running. He asked her, “You won’t mind, then, if I spend a little time with Amber later?”

 
 

Giselle sighed. “No. Do what you need to do, Hood. It doesn’t matter to me.”

 
 

I felt silence stretch between them. Heard the scratch of towel on skin. I got out of there.

 
 

Going through to another bathroom, I dropped my things on the floor, turned on a cold shower. Let me pants fall, and stepped in. Hood had plans to fuck Amber.

 
 

Putting my hands above me, I leaned forehead to the wall and let the sheet of cold slide over my back. I don’t know why I cared. I mean, I’d just met her. What did it matter to me?

 
 

It did, though. My abdomen tightened up. My ass cheeks squeezed together. And I felt like pounding the wall.

 
 

The door clicked. I didn’t move. I felt her out there. I did, however, block my thoughts. “Just leave them there, on the counter, thanks.”

 
 

I heard the rustle of clothing, hers, as she put them down. When she didn’t leave right away, I turned my head to look at her. The shower curtain was clear.

 
 

“I hear through walls, you know.”

 
 

“Doesn’t everybody?” I pushed myself off the wall then, and reached for the hotel supplied soap, unwrapped it and started rubbing it across my chest.

 
 

“Mind if I join you?”

 
 

What? There aren’t enough bathrooms in the place?
I said, “Suit yourself.”

 
 

“If it bugs you, I can go to another room. I just thought...since you had the water going....”

 
 

“Climb in. I could use someone to scrub my back.” I ducked my head, running water over it. I peeked when she started to undress.

 
 

Here’s the thing about Amber. She doesn’t have any inhibitions. She isn’t shy about her body. When she exposed herself fully, I turned toward her and looked. She sort of stood there, waiting for what I thought. Hoping I’d say something, aloud or in my head. Some judgment. I’m guessing...something she could jump on and use against me.

 
 

Her body is a series of layers. Rolls of flesh and dimples. Maybe some men find that repulsive. All I wanted was to pull it close to me. To feel it against my body. To rest my head against her chest. And to feel her arms around me.

 
 

She gave me a small smile and said softly, “Coming in. Better move over, big guy.”

 
 

I backed into the corner by the spray. Then I reached up and adjusted the nozzle.

 
 

Immediately, she squealed. I’d forgotten how cold it was. I had to laugh at the way she jumped around, even though I was trying to adjust the temp as fast as I could. Of course, when you want to do it fast, you always mess it up. It went from freezing to burning. She let out another scream. And I got it right--on the cool side of tepid. But after the other, it felt good to her.

 
 

She accused, “You did that on purpose.”

 
 

“You’d think that.”

 
 

Amber tipped her head back and let the shower get her straight in the face. The droplets splattered, and she pushed the liquid up and through her hair. With her eyes closed like that, and her body arched, I could resist...I tweaked a nipple.

 
 

She jumped and frowned at me. “Stop that.”

 
 

Holding my hands up innocently, I asked, “What? I didn’t do a thing.”

 
 

She rolled her eyes at me, of course and went back to what she was doing. I watched as she reveled in the feel of coolness running over her body. She said, “It’s pretty damn hot out there.”

 
 

“Yeah, it is.” I reached for a washcloth and lathered it up. Without invitation, I put the soapy cloth to her front.

 
 

It startled her, but she moved to me a little bit and let me have at it.

 
 

I’ve showered with other women before. I’ve rubbed them down and had them scrub me, too. But what I did for Amber there was more for me than her. It felt more like worship. I went over every inch of her body, and slid that cloth into every crevice and fold, as gently as I could. I went down on my knees, wiping from her thighs down to her ankles.

 
 

And I looked up at her from down there and said, “If you lift a leg to the side of the tub...”

 
 

She did.

 
 

I pressed the cloth to her womanhood, watching her face. Her eyes closed again, and her head fell back once more. Despite the water raining down on us, I put my nose to her crotch and rubbed upward with it a few times, right on her clit.

 
 

One of her hands dropped to my shoulder and the other to the side of my head. She said, “Use your tongue.”

 
 

I did.

 
 

Now, obviously, her orgasm pill had worked off. I had to work to get her there, but she gave me time to do it. And when it happened for her, I lapped up her juices, both hands to her ass cheeks, squeezing possessively as I reached in for the last drop.

 
 

When she was done, though, she was done. Abruptly, she said, “Get up. Wash your face and I’ll wash your back.”

 
 

My cock was throbbing at that point, full and engorged, ready to go. She pretended she didn’t notice. I let her order me around. I stood up, used the same cloth I’d pulled across every inch of her flesh on my face, and then passed it to her, and turned my back.

 
 

Again, I pressed my forehead to the wall. I waited for her to scrub my back as she’d promised. She lathered up the cloth while I stared down at my penis. I wanted nothing more than to turn her around and squeeze into her from the backside. I don’t know why I didn’t. My hands tightened into fists as she applied the cloth to my back.

 
 

“You should wax,” she said.

 
 

I laughed. “That looks shitty in crinos and lupine.”

 
 

“It’s all about that, isn’t it?” She chuckled.

 
 

Glancing over my shoulder at her, I asked, “You ever seen a waxed wolf?”

 
 

“A few.” She winked.

 
 

I guessed she must’ve talked a few into it, if her expression of amusement was anything to go by. I asked, “You like that?”

 
 

“I like seeing what a man will do for pussy.”

 
 

One more time, I looked down at my cock. I told her, “I’m not into cats.”

 
 

That was it. She dropped the washcloth and soap at my feet and said, “I’m outta here.”

 
 

And I thought,
Good.

 
 

I stood there, stock still, until she got dressed and out altogether. Then I beat off.

 
 

She liked seeing what she could get a man to do. I hated that about her. I hated the fact that, for a split second, I had contemplated shaving my back--or asking her to do it.

 
 

When I climbed out, and toweled down, I noted the shaving gear on the counter. Wiping the fog off the mirror, I stared at my reflection, and noted the stubble growth. And decided right then and there that I’d grow some facial hair. A goatee. Trimmed around it. I didn’t think it looked bad at all.

 
 

I took my time in there. Felt like I had all the time in the world. The clothes Frank had bought were expensive. Armani. Guess he wanted me to look good for the big to-do. I had a little trouble with the tie. I left it hanging. I don’t wear those much. And truth be told, I usually wear the same one, just loosen it a bit and pull it over my head.

 
 

Exiting the bathroom, I padded out. The alcohol in my system, coupled with Giselle’s treatment and the shower--masturbation, had relaxed me enough, I guess. Frank had obviously showered, and was completely dressed and ready to go, nursing a drink. Looked like a vodka screwdriver.

 
 

Amber had a water bottle in hand. Giselle nursed what looked like wine, while Hood stood at the window, a phone cord in one ear--presumably the phone itself was in his pocket, and a beer in his hand. I could’ve listened in, if I’d wanted to. But I was more interested in the small talk between the girls.

 
 

Giselle told Amber, very quietly, “He said he’s going to do you later.”

 
 

“If you say so.”

 
 

I growled and went to the bar. Now, I don’t believe they didn’t notice I’d entered the room, but none of them said anything to me, or looked my way, as far as I could tell. Dropping some ice in a fresh cup, I poured a little more scotch and asked, “So, what time’s the wedding?”

 
 

“Why?” Frank asked. “You got a hot date?” A small smile rolled around his lips.

 
 

Putting the glass to mine, I said, “Maybe.”

 
 

The women’s eyebrows went up. Hood turned slightly to look over at me. And, actually, I mentally ticked off a few friends I had in the area. People I ought to hook up with, at least for a drink--just so they didn’t feel snubbed. Politics, and all that.

 
 

I asked, “How long are we gonna be in town?”

 
 

“Until tomorrow, noon,” Frank said. “Then on to St. Louis.”

 
 

“Giselle has a thing for jazz.” Amber smiled. “Don’t you?”

 
 

Giselle strolled toward me, set her drink down and said, “Guess you could say that. Let me help you with your tie.”

 
 

I turned my body toward her and let her do it. Not that I had any choice. But I felt three sets of eyes on me. I looked down at Giselle and asked with a smile, “How’s the bride holding up?”

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