Olivia Cunning - Tell Me

Melanie didn’t know why she found the two of them so touching. She’d never had a dog, so she found the obvious connection between man and beast hard to comprehend. Obviously Beau didn’t know what was being said to him, but the tone of Gabe’s voice and his soothing hand had somehow reached the animal. She’d probably have just grabbed the dog by the collar hand hauled him into the house. Or scolded him for disobeying. Gabe’s way was better. Lots better.

What a truly remarkable man.

His face brightened and his lips stretched into a smile when he noticed her watching him, but his eyes were hidden under the shadow of his baseball cap. She felt those eyes on hers, though. Felt some connection between them that she couldn’t explain. She was in over her head with this guy and found that realization wonderful, amazing, and scary as hell.

Melanie looked damned beautiful standing on his porch with the light of the setting sun making her skin glow. He doubted she realized how happy he was to have her here with him—just the two of them at home—or how much he appreciated her help with Lady. If Melanie hadn’t been there, he probably would have been too busy losing his head over the teenaged drunk driver to realize his dog needed medical attention and not a hole in the ground.

He felt bad for Beau too. The dog had never been as close to Lady as he’d been to Sweetie. It was as if Beau was afraid to get too attached to another mate. Could a dog have a broken heart? Gabe knew one could. Beau still had one. The dog cared about Lady and had sired her first batch of pups, but he had loved Sweetie. Gabe had always believed that there was one true love for everyone—even his damned dog—and that a man could love many women in his lifetime, but not the way he loved his one. As Melanie waited for him to join her on the porch, he wondered if she was his. His one. Did a man know that kind of thing right away, or did it take a while for the feeling to develop? Did a man choose his one and only or was it written in the stars? He’d never pondered those kinds of things before and wondered why this particular woman put these strange thoughts in his head. Time to get her naked, so he could think about something a less terrifyingly life-altering than Melanie as a permanent fixture in his life.

“I thought you’d be naked by now,” he said.

“Just admiring the view,” she said.

He glanced over his shoulder at the spectacular sunset behind him. A red-orange globe hovered just above the horizon and shot veins of pink, violet, and green through the clouds. The brilliant blue sky above the clouds had begun to darken to cobalt.

“That is a beautiful sunset,” he agreed.

“What sunset?” she said with a laugh. “I was ogling you.”

He took his cap off, smoothed the strip of long hair down the center of his scalp with one hand, and plopped the hat back on his head. His face felt uncharacteristically hot. Was he blushing? Dear lord, what was the world coming to? “Wouldn’t you rather ogle me naked and wet?”

She reached for his hand, grabbed it securely in hers, and tugged him toward the front door. “Good call.”

Beau followed them into the house and took his regular spot on the rug near the threshold. He gnawed on Lady’s ball and completely ignored the humans who were already pawing at each other like a couple of animals.

Gabe drew Melanie against him, pressing her soft breasts tightly to his bare chest. His emotions were a blend of joy and turmoil, hope and despair, and he couldn’t get a firm handle on any of them. Which is why he needed a distraction. He smiled when her hands found his ass and gave both cheeks a playful squeeze. She tilted her face up and trailed sweet tickling kisses under his jaw. Apparently she was ready for a distraction as well.

He lowered the zipper at the back of her dress, so sorry that it was ruined but glad that it was easy to remove so he could expose her beauty and touch the warm smooth flesh of his little Melanie. Yes, his. She had to be his.

She shrugged her dress straps off her shoulders, dropping the dress on the floor and lifting her arms to rub her hands over his bare chest.

She looked devastatingly sexy in her garters, thigh-high stockings, lacy white bra, and panties, but nothing material could match the beauty of what was hidden underneath. When she lifted her arms to remove the clip from her hair and let the glorious mass tumble down around her shoulders, Gabe groaned in approval.

He reached behind her and pinched the bra clasp at her back before brushing the straps from her shoulders to free her beautiful breasts to his eager eyes. She lowered her arms and let her bra join her dress on the floor. Her fingertips glided up his quivering belly, bumping over the hard contours of his body. She paused to rub the barbell in his nipple with one thumb, staring up into his eyes and working his sensitive flesh until it was hard and achy beneath her touch. When he groaned, she leaned forward to kiss his chest, her lips brushing over the wolf tattoo on one side and the cougar on the other. Her breath was warm and moist against the skin over his heart as she kissed between her splayed hands. She paused unexpectedly and gave her hand a hesitant sniff. She pulled a face and stepped away abruptly.

“Oh gross, I do smell like dog,” she said. “Let’s continue this in the shower.”

She slipped her garters, lacy thong, and stockings down her legs, leaving the remainder of her clothes and her shoes in a tangle on the living room floor. Struck dumb by the sight of her glorious nude form streaking through his house toward the bedroom, Gabe didn’t blink until she was completely out of sight.

He stripped off his clothes where he stood—from ball cap to tennis shoes—and followed Melanie into his bedroom.

He heard the spray of water and Melanie’s, “What in the world?” echoing off the bathroom tiles.

He supposed she’d just discovered he didn’t have an average, everyday shower. His was a shower designed for a thorough cleaning. And if one was so inclined to utilize the showerheads advantageously, an added kick of pleasure.

He watched her sidestep out of the jet of water spraying her in the ass in favor of the overhead flow that she used to wet her skin as she lathered on the soap. Most of the showerheads were currently off. How would she respond to getting sprayed from all directions?

He smiled, knowing how adventurous she could be with the slightest encouragement, and opened the glass shower door to join her.

She immediately went after him with the soap. “You smell like dog too,” she said and then nodded at one of the walls of showerheads. “What’s with all the plumbing? It’s like a carwash in here.”

“Would you like a demonstration?” he asked.

She eyed the brushed silver fixtures warily. “I’m not sure.”

He took her by the shoulders and judging the best location, shifted her back a few paces. “Stand right there,” he said, giving her a kiss of encouragement on one cheek. “Spread your feet apart.”

“For balance?”

He chuckled. “If that’s what you want to believe.”

She took a deep breath and spread her feet apart.

“A little more.”

She obeyed without question. He loved how she trusted him so thoroughly with her body. He began to turn the showerheads on and adjusted the heads to spray water over her erogenous zones from multiple directions. He focused on her breasts first—directing a few showerheads so that each nipple was stimulated from the side, above, and below. She sighed in pleasure, shimmying slightly to move her stiff nipples in and out of the warm spray. He set several showerheads to massage her shoulders and lower back with strong, pulsating bursts. He had additional jets tickling the backs of her knees and then finally turned one particularly vigorous spray to hit her in the ass. She gasped and bent forward, opening herself up to the pleasure. It also gave him a spectacular view of the slick, swollen pussy between her thighs. One he very much wanted to investigate on a more personal level. But first…

He removed a handheld sprayer from the wall, turned it on, and handed it to her.

“What’s this for?” she asked.

He twisted the showerhead and it began to pulsate. “I think you’ll figure it out,” he said.

He stepped back to stand near the shower door—the only surface not covered with fixtures—and just looked at her. Her skin was slick with water and rosy from stimulation. Her long hair was almost black when wet and hung in limp waves, sticking to her shoulders, her back, and breasts like the brush strokes of an admiring artist. When she directed the handheld’s spray between her thighs and began to moan in pleasure, he would have loved to simply continue watching, but he honestly didn’t have the willpower to keep his hands off her for another moment.

He stepped up behind her, the gush of water that had been spraying up her backside hitting him in the thigh. It was times like this that he wished he was several inches shorter. He cupped her breasts in his hands and massaged them so that her nipples entered and left the spray in cycles that made her groan in delight.

The spray she was directing between her legs hit the tip of his cock, and he shuddered. Fuck, he was hard. He couldn’t stop himself from rubbing his dick against the sweet, slick heat beckoning him inside.

She bent forward and gyrated her hips, rubbing against him, encouraging him to take her, claim her, make her his.

He bent his knees and slipped the head of his cock inside her, surging forward, taking what he wanted.