Except water.
Rushing. Loud water.
I’m an idiot.
“Isaac,” Gabby says, closing her eyes and running water through her hair. Oh I have definitely fucked up.What did I expect her to say?
“I can’t touch you until I’m out of this,” I snap. “Because I care about you too much and I haven’t done this in a long time and… You are far too good for me.”
I can’t stand it. Standing there. Watching her naked. Getting harder by the second with no capacity to touch myself because if I do something that fucking stupid and reckless, I’ll make it worse by carrying Gabby off to the bedroom and sleeping with her.
I leave the bathroom and slam the door behind me. I have to leave her alone. I wait on the other side of the door for a few seconds. She isn’t following me. I don’t expect her to do that when she really does have the mess of the day all over her. I can smell her shampoo from the other side of the door and my frustration is too powerful to ignore. I strip my clothes off.
I’ll shower once she’s done. Standing naked on the other side of the door with Gabby on the other side is almost too much to bear and there’s no point wrapping a towel around my waist with a raging hard-on. My desire veers into the reckless as one hand grips my cock and the other rests on the door, bracing myself…
Don’t go in there, Isaac.
You can’t.
I pump the length of my shaft, allowing the magnificent eyeful of Gabby I just captured to fuel my yearning. I bite my lower lip to stop myself from growling as I jack off like an animal with Gabby showering on the other side of the door. Everything about her body is so plump and juicy. It’s not just her shape but… Her eyes. The shape of her lips. Everything about her is soft, curvy… fucking perfect. The ass on that woman could stop eight lanes of traffic. My dark thoughts imagine splitting those cheeks apart and prodding at her entrance with my cock.
Oh fuck… My balls tighten and my cock jerks. Not quite… but close… I don’t have long until Gabby’s done, but I don’t need long. Imagining my cock disappearing between those soft folds and her wet juicy ass cheeks as they drip with water is more than enough to drag me over the edge while I yank my dick like a fucking gorilla.
When I feel myself about to cum, I rub the thumb of my cock over the tip of my cock and the soft pressure pushes me over the edge and heightens the intensity of my overwhelming climax. I brace myself against the door and grunt audibly as thick ropes of cum erupt all over my hand.
I groan again, totally out of control as my cum explodes out of my dick and some of it forms a long string connecting my dick to the ground. I didn’t think aboutthis part.The door to the bathroom flies open, almost knocking me over since I braced myself against its weight. Gabby gasps and jumps back. We make awkward, painfully long eye contact which she finally breaks to look down at me – dick in hand, cum everywhere. Gabby bites down on her lower lip and smirks at me, refusing to break eye contact.
What goes through this woman’s mind?
“Shower, Isaac?”
“Yes,” I growl, totally embarrassed as I push past Gabby and shut the bathroom door behind me cum, leaking out of my damn hand. I am such a goddamn animal.
She’s never going to want a guy like me.
Chapter Twenty
Oske
Iam going to kill myself if I hear the censored version of Kesha’sTimberone more time. While I find rapping white childrenveryadorable and enjoy the way they refuse to keep the rhythm of the song… For seven hours? Brinley totally has a handle on keeping Isaac’s wild kids distracted from the fact that we soft-kidnapped them, but at what cost? She won’t let me vape around them and the absence of nicotine grates on my nerves like there’s a cat digging its nails into the front of my brain.
“We’re almost there!” Brinley says with all the enthusiasm of a camp counselor. “What song do you guys want next?”
The kids that can talk scream together, “TIMBER!”
The smallest one is immune to their screeching. I get scared that she doesn’t wake up enough, but Brinley seems to have everything under control and she’s better than any of the Barbarians who would have fallen fast asleep instead of helping me out with Tylee’s hungry-looking kids. Selma isn’t a fit parent, frankly. But then again, neither is Tylee.
I don’t know how she let things get to her the way they did. I’ve been telling her for years that she might be betteroff stopping production on the whole Sinclair baby thing and looking after herself but… Some people just do whatever the hell they want. Hey, I’ve been that person sometimes. The kids are off-key.
They get through another round of Timber when Max waits for the song to settle into silence and asks, “Are we really going to see daddy or are you a wicked human trafficker going to behead us and feed us to the skin walker.”
Kids can be dark. I forgot that. But what kind of five year old knows about human traffickers and wendigos and creepy stuff like that.
“We’re going to see Isaac, I promise.”
“Daddy says you tell lies because a lot of Indians tell lies and mommy says that’s racist.”
“Your mom is right,” Brinley says. “Thatisracist. Everybody tells lies sometimes, but we’re telling the truth.”