Page 87 of The Mountain Man's Mail-Order Mafia Princess
“You wore that under the dress all day?”
“I’m committed, not irresponsible.”
She opened the remaining buttons of my shirt and pushed it from my shoulders. Her palms slid beneath my T-shirt and over my stomach before she dragged the fabric upward.
I lifted my arms.
“You’ve been staring at me since the porch,” she said.
“You wore the red dress.”
“I wore it for myself.”
“I know.”
“I also enjoyed what it did to you.”
“Of course you did.”
Talia opened my belt.
I caught her wrist. Her eyes lifted to mine.
“Still what you want?” I asked.
“Yes. I want you to follow for once.”
I released her.
She pushed my jeans and boxer briefs down. My cock came free, hard against my stomach.
Her gaze traveled over it. “That continues to be excessive.”
“You managed before.”
“I intend to manage again.”
She wrapped her fingers around me and stroked once.
My abdomen went rigid.
Talia smiled. “Not yet.”
She released me, removed her bra, and slid the matching underwear down her legs. Then she stepped beneath the water and held out her hand.
I joined her.
The standing shower gave us enough room if neither of us expected personal space.
Talia spread soap over my chest, shoulders, stomach, and arms.
“This is very intimate for someone who called the cabin an equipment advertisement,” I said.
“It has improved since I arrived.”
“You added shampoo.”
“And emotional range.”
