Violent Delights by Rebecca Massey

Author:Rebecca Massey [Massey, Rebecca]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-10-29T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER NINETEEN

cherry

It is past ten o’clock at night when Kasper pieces together a bag of clothes and wash items. He eyes me as he does it. Is he expecting me to grab stuff too? I am not taking another shower with him. I have no intention of reliving the same experience from last night. Even though the memory of it does cause my thighs to clench together. I can just picture seeing him with his clothes off again, all that skin and muscle and pure man power.

He holds my hand as we go to the showers. Though he has tugged my wrist a few times, I can’t help but notice he holds my hand whenever he leads me somewhere or wants to make sure I stay at his side. Not knowing whether it is him being nice or trying not to cause attention fucks with my brain.

The shower house is nothing more than a brown shed in the middle of a patch of grass among the trees. Kasper glances around to see if anyone is present before he pushes into the women’s room. Once the door closes behind us, he slides the lock into place.

“What if someone was in here?” I quip as he walks over to a shower stall.

They are nothing more than tiled corners with a swinging door. There is a bench seat and some hooks for clothing inside the stall. I glance at the floor, not seeing any physical dirt but wondering what sort of germs are lingering in the gray grout between the yellowed tiles.

“If they have to go bad enough there is a bush two feet to the left of the door,” he comments.

He turns on the shower and tests it with his hand before stepping toward me and removing his shirt.

“Going to spectate?” he asks, unbuttoning his jeans and leaning down to unlace his shoes.

The haphazard order that he undresses makes me itchy, and I fight the urge to tell him to do it with some sense of order. He hangs his clothes on the hooks and grabs the soap bottle from the bag before stepping beneath the stream. How can his flaccid dick still look that good? And be that long?

Yep, I am an idiot.

I pull off my clothes and creep closer to him. He steps aside so I can have access to the water, and I try not to take note of the way his dick begins to stiffen. I glance down at it, turning away as I pull the soap from his hand.

“Dry spell,” he comments, rubbing the soap between his hands and slapping them against his chest.

The vision of his chest hair turning white with the suds and the way the foamy rivulets run down his chiseled form and over his . . .

Look away, Cherry!

“So, you are telling me there is no sex at all in prison? Not even with yourself?”

He leans over into the water and begins rinsing his chest as he stares down at me. “Not the kind of sex I was interested in.

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