Newly Tied (Marshals #7) Read Online Mary Calmes

Categories Genre: Contemporary, M-M Romance Tags Authors: Series: Marshals Series by Mary Calmes
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Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 68867 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 344(@200wpm)___ 275(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
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He was staring at me so hard.

“And though I do in fact think of myself as a bit of a mind reader where you’re concerned,” I said gently, playfully, “I don’t rightly know all the things that are in your heart unless you tell me.”

“Yes.”

“And I’ll do the same. Because I’ve wanted to say, but I’ve been too scared.”

“You’ve been scared to say what?”

“I’ll tell you in the shower,” I rumbled before kissing him, a quick brush of my lips over his, then let him go and sat up. “Come on.”

I rolled off the bed and stood there watching him, so entranced for a moment, admiring this beautiful man who now belonged to me, that I was surprised when he nearly took a header because he didn’t quite get his feet under him.

“You all right?” I baited him.

If looks could kill.

“Man, you are tired,” I continued goading him, chuckling, but went mute as soon as he started pulling off his clothes.

“So what if I—what are you doing?” He stopped with his shirt off, hands on his belt.

“I’m lookin’ at you.” I saw the flush hit his cheeks, and I moved close, crowding him. “You like knowin’ I think you’re gorgeous.”

“You think I never noticed you looking at me, but I did, and I liked it.”

Using every drop of self-control I had in me, I turned and left him, striding into the adjoining bathroom, which was, as I’d noticed when I first visited, utterly cavernous. Double sinks, a shower so big there were jets on three sides, a bench, and shelving, and beside it, a tub big enough for two. Across from that, where initially there’d been a vanity, he changed out for a closet with a full-length mirror, shelves, and an area where he hung his robes—one for when he got out of the shower, and one to lounge in. He was so much more organized than I was, but really, if I had a luxury-hotel shower, I could be as well. Above the sinks were mirrors on sliding doors that hid shelves where he kept more products than any one person needed. But that was a conversation for another day. At the moment, all I cared about was stripping down and standing in the jets of water. Finally, he walked in.

“What took you so long?” I croaked out since he came into the room naked.

I’d seen him with his shirt off before. I’d seen him in the morning with only his sleep shorts on. It was easy enough to connect the dots in my head and imagine how beautiful the man had to be, but it was not the same as seeing him completely, just sleek skin over hard, toned, chiseled muscles. And more than anything else, the long, thick, cut cock hanging between his granite thighs.

“I needed a moment before I followed you,” he admitted. “I’ve never even thought about going down on a man, but the way you were looking at me, I was thinking I would very much like to try.”

A thought occurred to me then. “Please tell me you have some kind of lube in this house.”

I loved the look I got, like I really was so stupid.

“It’s another reason I wanted to go to my place,” I told him. “I have that there.”

“Well, some women like it too, and I love it,” he said, his eyes heating fast. “So when desires match, I have to be ready.”

“Well, I have a favorite lube, and I’ll show you,” I said, soaping up his natural sea wool sponge that looked like it would be rough but was the softest thing I’d ever used on my skin. Whenever I showered at his place, I used one of them. He changed them out quite a bit. “Come in here already, will ya?”

He was inside fast, and I turned on him, watching the warm water hit his skin.

“You like looking at me.”

“Yes,” I husked, using the sponge on him, his chest, down his legs, circling back for his cock and balls, missing nothing, no crevice, before turning him around and bending him over, hands on the bench. I held open the cheeks of his firm, round ass.

“Is all this necessary?” he asked irritably. “We could be out already and in bed.”

“Out of the amazin’ shower?” I said with a chuckle, pushing him into the spray as I put more soap on the sponge and washed myself, watching as he did his hair, using all his good-smelling, ridiculously priced hair-care products. At home, I had a shampoo and conditioner in one. He’d been horrified when he saw it, and even more terrified when he read the ingredient list. Apparently, it was lucky I still had hair.

Squeezing the sponge, putting it back only because he liked things a certain way, I then turned off the water and shoved him out.



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