Desiree
I can barely hold my head up. Junior stands under the warm spray of water with me, his hands roaming over every inch of my body, sudsing and washing and re-sudsing. I’m propped against the wall, smiling at him through the droplets.
I’ve never seen this face on him. His gaze is pure warmth, so unlike his usual hardened visage, I hardly recognize him. And the warmth is so complete, I could bask in it like the sun. I feel loved and appreciated—cherished even.
Junior shampoos and conditions my hair and when he’s done everything but shave my legs, he cages me between his muscled arms and stares down at me, brushing our noses together. “You okay?” He slides one hand down and palms my a*s. “Not too sore?”
I shake my head. I’m still one hundred percent blissed out.
He pushes a few str
