Out of Focus (Love in LA #3)

He applies and rinses the conditioner with the same level of patience and care, then he lathers his hands with body wash and starts massaging my body. He doesn’t say anything else, and the water hitting the tile is all I hear as he works.

I’m already turned on, so when his strong hands work over my back, arms, and shoulders, then slip and slide over my breasts, I’m practically panting. His fingers flick my already hard nipples over and over. I moan, and immediately, his hands are gone as Rafael lowers to his knees. He washes my legs, massaging my ass, but completely avoids going anywhere near where I want him most.

When he rises to his feet again, he reaches behind me and pulls a handheld showerhead, rinsing the soap off my body. He moves my arms, making sure to get all of the suds. When he’s finished, he maneuvers us so I’m facing the bench and he’s standing behind me, then he pulls my knee up onto the bench, and I watch as he lowers the showerhead over my stomach. When the water hits my center, my knees nearly give out, but he is there with an arm around my waist. He loosens his hold when I brace my hand on the wall.

“Feel okay?” His nose brushes my shoulder as he aims the water perfectly at my clit.

“Feels s-so, oh, shit. So good. So good. So good.” My eyes are about to roll into the back of my head as I moan, my fingertips pushing against the smooth tile.

“Is this not how you normally wash your pussy when you’re alone, red?” He’s relentless, and I’m powerless to this sweet torture. I could lower my leg, but I don’t want to. It feels too good. “Hmm?” he asks.

“N-no. Never like this,” I answer.

“Never?” he asks, his mouth hovering over my neck.

“Never,” I admit, and he groans. I’m about to come; I can feel it. The heat building in my stomach, the tingling all over my skin, the way my hips are already bucking into the pressure of the water. “Raf,” I moan, throwing my head back and closing my eyes. I hear a crinkling sound, but my brain doesn’t register what it is.

“I know.” He moves the wand closer, the pressure intensifying. I move a hand to my breast, my nipples aching for his touch. “That’s it. That’s my girl. Come for me so I can finally slide inside you.” I gasp, my orgasm now at my fingertips. So close. “You want that, Charlie? You want me to bottom out inside your tight pussy again?” I nod frantically. I need it right the fuck now. He chuckles, as again, my thoughts slip out of my mouth. “Not until you come. When you come, I’ll let you take every inch. I’ll fuck you as soft or as hard as you want. Tell me how you want me.”

“Hard. I want you to fuck me hard. I want you to make me come. Oh God, Raf, please. Please.” I’m prepared to beg, then he drops the showerhead, and I feel a scream of frustration building in my throat.

He places a gentle hand between my shoulder blades, urging me to bend at the waist and he thrusts into me. Deep. Hard. His rhythm is steady, hitting that perfect spot inside me. Neither of us says a word. We don’t need to.

When I straighten, needing more of his warm body against mine, he wraps an arm around me. His hands roam over my stomach, my breast, my neck, until he takes hold of my chin, turning my face towards his. Our lips meet in a bruising, needy kiss as he fucks me exactly the way I asked. And when his finger touches down on my clit, I come so hard I scream into his mouth.

He joins me, groaning into my neck, his thrusts punishing, erratic, delicious, as he pulls me tighter against him. He stills inside me, lips on my skin, kissing my neck once, twice, three times. How this man can fuck me the way he just did, then kiss me so sweetly is beyond me.

I whimper when he pulls out of me, loosening his hold, but not letting me go as I lower my foot to the floor. After taking a deep breath, he tosses the condom on the floor as I turn to face him. His gaze roams over my face, filled with affection, and his hand reaches out to gently brush a strand of hair behind my ear in that way I love. His fingers linger on my jaw.

I finally break the silence, even if it is a comfortable, soothing one. “Can we order breakfast, eat it in bed, and then have a nap?” I’m still exhausted from the lack of sleep from being at the hospital with Maeve, and I’m not used to this level of, shall we say, physical activity.

His smile is wide as he chuckles. “We can do anything you want, shortcake. Why don’t you order whatever you’re hungry for on one of the apps on my phone while I get my body clean? The passcode is 24825. Just spell Chuck.” He kisses me on the nose, and I blink slowly, letting that piece of information sink in.

“Your passcode is Chuck?”

“Yep,” he answers simply. “Been that way for at least two years now.” He presses his lips to mine. “Don’t overthink it. I told you I’ve wanted you for a long time. And even though I would never have admitted it to anyone, you were never not on my mind, Charlie. That’s how it’s been, and that’s how it’ll stay.”

I let out a laugh. “I’ll never need to research anything for book boyfriends ever again now that I have you.”

“That’s right, shorty. No more experiments, no more practicing. Because you have me.” His eyes turn serious, and his smile falters. “But you know I’m not perfect, right? I’ll make mistakes. I’m gonna mess up.”

“Oh, I know.” I smile, but he doesn’t join me. “So will I. I’ll make mistakes too.” I cradle his face in my hands, attempting to soothe his insecurities.

He nods. “But I’ll never hurt you. I’ll never disrespect you.” He swallows hard, as if just the thought of doing those things to me causes him pain.

“I know that, too, Raf. You’re not perfect, but you’re a wonderful man with a beautiful heart. I trust you.” I kiss him slowly, whispering I love you when he rests his forehead on mine, and his smile grows until the two little dimples appear.

Extracting myself from his hold, I dry myself quickly with a perfectly warm towel, wrapping the wet one around my hair and using a fresh one to wrap around my body. It’s heavenly.

And by the time Raf is out of the shower, I’ve ordered us a feast to be enjoyed in his huge bed.

59/

holy forking shirtballs! how? when?

rafael

The gate at Owen and Maeve’s house closes behind us, and as we approach the house, Charlie’s hands twist on her lap. I take one in mine, kissing her knuckles.