Page 59 of Unbound

“Hold onto me.” Walker hooks my free hand over his shoulder and I latch on, needing his support. His body brushes mine, the dusting of hair on his chest teasing my tight nipples as the knuckles of the hand stroking his dick drag across my stomach. “Perfect. Just like that.”

I manage to lift my lids, and the sight of Walker gripping his cock, strong body strung tight, does something to me. Something significant. Significant enough to push me into the climax he’s helped me achieve.

I’m still riding the wave when Walker snarls, his free hand gripping the back of my neck to bring his mouth crashing against mine. The kiss is rough, all teeth and tongue, and it pushes me higher, making me moan into his mouth as my body shudders against his.

Dragging his lips from mine, Walker buries his face in my wet hair, groaning against the strands as lines of his cum crisscross my belly, only to be quickly washed away by the water.

Holy shit. That was… That was…

I don’t even know what that was. Hot. Intense. Definitely an unforgettable experience. Even if Walker slapped me on the ass and sent me on my way, I’d probably still leave with a smile on my face.

But that’s not what he does.

He pulls me away from the wall, positioning my body directly under the stream of water before gently scrubbing me down, running his hands over every inch of my skin before rinsing the soap away.

No one has ever done anything like this for me, and it has my throat feeling tight. I know I’m a lot. I’m chaotic and scattered and prone to completely ignoring every other aspect of my life when something interests me. I’m not the kind of woman to give a man all her attention or sweetly bat her eyes and tell him how big and strong he is. I’m the kind of woman who, after a few blinks, forgets what I’m doing and ends up telling him everything I know about Spam.

And I know an embarrassingly large number of facts about canned meat.

I’m sure my short attention span and love of sharing facts has turned off more than a few men over the years. It will likely do the same with Walker eventually. But I’m going to enjoy his attention while I have it. Soak up what it feels like to be treated the way my dad treated my mom. Pretend—just for a minute—I won’t be going back to my townhome alone when this is all over, trying to figure out what comes next.

And how in the hell I’m going to go back to my life after knowing what Walker McKinley looks like when he comes.

19

Walker

If you put two liars in a shower, what do they do?

Apparently the bigger liar of the two convinces the less liary liar to play with herself while he jacks off.

I knew taking a step back from Sybil would be difficult after last night. Even suspected I might slip up a time or two. I did not expect to slip so far so fast. I should be kicking my own ass as I help her out of the shower and wrap her in one of the luxurious bath towels my aunt bought me for Christmas one year.

I’m not. And that’s a really fucking bad sign.

Because I’m considering something that will likely cause even more problems.

I’ve known it was likely going to have to happen at some point, but figured the motivation would be different. That my reasons would be for my own benefit alone. Now, that’s no longer true, and I’m not sure if that makes me an even bigger liar, or just delusional.

“What’s wrong?” Sybil’s soft voice pulls me from my thoughts.

I continue running the soft cotton over her body even though there’s not a drop of water to be found on her skin. I’m attempting to buy myself time. Time to get myself back in line. Time to push the past back where it belongs. Time to close doors that are trying to open.

“Nothing.” My voice is rougher than I intend, making me sound pissed.

And maybe I am. But not at her. At myself. For letting this get so far out of hand so fucking quickly.

Sybil snorts, her lips curving, clearly unbothered by my abrasive denial. “Liar.”

The word hits me like a ton of bricks. Not because she’s calling me out, but because she sees the truth. Because she’s already figured me out well enough to know when I’m full of shit.

And if she already knows that…

One hand lifts, her thumb rubbing against the spot between my brows. “But you don’t have to tell me. I know some things are hard to talk about.” The corner of her mouth tips up. “But you’re going to give yourself one hell of a wrinkle right here if you don’t stop scowling all the time.”

In just a few words, she shifts my entire mood. Moving it into safer, more comfortable territory.

I tuck the towel around her shoulders, wrapping her up. “If I stop scowling all the time, no one’s going to recognize me.”