Good Girl

Can’t keep his mind of her

*Benjamin*

The steam envelops me as I step under the hot spray, the water cascading over my shoulders, washing away the grime of the day like some kind of baptism. I close my eyes, allowing the warmth to seep into my bones, but no matter how hard I try to clear my mind, thoughts of Irene seep in, relentless and intoxicating.

I brace my hands against the cool tile, letting the water pound against my back. She’s there, in my head, dancing around like a specter, tempting me with that playful smile and the way her eyes sparkled when she caught me off guard. I shouldn’t want her. I shouldn’t even be thinking about her like this… her laughter, her scent, the way her dress clung to her curves like a promise. I’m a detective, not some lovesick fool, and yet, here I am, lost in a fantasy I can’t seem to escape.

I tilt my head back, letting the water wash over my face, trying to drown out the thoughts of her. But as the steam rises, I imagine her there with me, stepping into the shower, the fabric of her dress clinging to her skin like a second layer. I can almost feel the heat radiating off her, the way her breath would hitch as she stepped into the warmth of the water beside me. My heart races at the thought, a primal urge clawing its way to the surface.

She’s too young, too innocent. I know that. I shouldn’t even be contemplating the idea of her in here, with me, her laughter mingling with the sound of the water. But the thought of her, her skin glistening like the finest porcelain, makes my breath hitch. I can picture the way her eyes would widen as I reach for her, the way her body would react to my touch, electric and alive.

“Get a grip,” I mutter to myself, bracing my hands against the wall, feeling the tiles bite into my palms as I try to anchor myself. This is madness. But as the steam thickens, I can’t help but imagine her stepping closer, her body brushing against mine, the heat of her skin igniting a fire deep within me.

What would it be like to pull her against me, to feel her warmth mingling with my own? I let out a shaky breath, leaning my forehead against the cool tile. I’ve been through hell and back, seen the worst this city has to offer. I’m not some giddy schoolboy swept away in a crush. But damn it, the way she looks at me… it’s like she sees me, the real me, beneath all the darkness.

I close my eyes again, forcing myself to think of something… anything… else. The case I’m working on, the criminals I’m chasing, the thin line I walk every day. But every thought is overshadowed by the memory of her smile, the way her laughter dances in my ears. It’s a drug, and I’m addicted, spiraling further into a desire I can’t afford.

With a frustrated grunt it’s her face I see, her lips parting in a sultry smile, inviting me to cross a line I know I shouldn’t. She’s dangerous, and I’m not talking about the kind that comes from her being a potential witness and too young for me. No, it’s the kind that threatens to turn my carefully structured world into chaos.

I can picture her stepping through the glass door, the water glistening on her skin, and I feel a rush of heat pool in my stomach. The thought of her curves, slick and inviting, sends a jolt of raw desire coursing through me. I imagine her fingers trailing over my chest, the softness of her touch igniting every nerve ending. I shouldn’t want this. I shouldn’t want her. But the image of her, her body glistening under the showerhead, is enough to make me forget every rational thought I have.

“Stop it,” I growl, shaking my head as if to dispel the fantasies creeping in. But it’s too late. My body betrays me, heat pooling low in my abdomen and my d**k now painfully hard as I picture her leaning in, whispering something sweet and sultry in my ear. I can almost feel her breath against my skin, the warmth of her body mingling with the steam, the tension between us thick enough to cut with a knife.

What would she say? Would she tease me, like she always does? Would she tell me I’m overthinking it, that I should just let go? I can’t help but wonder what it would feel like to lose myself in her, to drown in that intoxicating pull that’s becoming harder to resist. She’s a storm, a tempest, and I’m a ship lost at sea, unable to navigate my way back to safety.

I imagine her going to her knees, smiling up at me as she take hold of my erection. I give up on the fight, squirting soap into my hand, before fisting my c**k, imagining it is her.

In my mind I see her sexy mouth slide down to envelope my shaft as I stroke my c**k faster and harder. The way she would struggle to take me, but keep going, how I would fist her hair, feeding her more and more of me, enjoying the warmth of her mouth and the strokes of her tongue.

I am all but choking my d**k as I imagine her looking up at me, tears streaking her face as she smiles around me.

“God! Irene,” I groan, as the powerful orgasm rocks through me and rope after rope of my jizz splatters against the tiles. f**k I can’t remember when I last came this hard.

After getting my breath back I quickly clean off, then turn off the water and hurry out to dry off and get dressed… hoping she is not wondering what took me so long.