Chloe Wallace needs a new start. When she lands in Washington, D.C. she hopes for the best. Finding a new job, meeting new people, and living a normal life away from her abusive ex-husband.
She moves into the Capital Plaza Apartments, right across t...
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CW: Teasing, mild smut, kinky conversations, discussions of sexual assault, discussions of domestic violence.
"The truth will set you free. But not until it is finished with you." - David Foster Wallace, "Infinite Jest"
chloe.
There's something I forgot about getting into a new relationship: once you start fucking, it feels impossible to stop.
It's like a compulsion. Hormones going haywire. Dopamine flooding your system, desperate for more.
More touches.
More kisses.
More of their hands on your body.
It's a hunger I haven't felt in far too long.
Everyone deserves to feel this good all the time.
"That feels amazing," he groans as I rake my fingers through his scalp, watching the shampoo foam up between my fingers. "I don't think I've had someone wash my hair since the last time I got a haircut, and even then, it didn't feel this good."
It's sort of hard to wash the hair of a man who's almost a foot taller than you, but I think I'm managing pretty well. I was actually surprised at the amount of body washes Spencer had in his shower. Most guys just have some kind of 3 in 1 shampoo and body wash, but he separated his. His body wash smells like mango and he has Nizoral shampoo because he gets dandruff.
I think that's what makes his hair so soft.
"I love your hair," I whisper, raking my fingers through it.
"You really don't think it's too long?" He asks as shampoo suds drip onto his bony shoulders.
"Not at all. Why are you so self conscious of it?"
Spencer shrugs.
"I just don't see a lot of guys who look like me get pretty girls like you."
I leave the shampoo for a while, letting it do its thing as I start to massage his shoulders and back. My thumbs push into tight muscle and he groans a little. He's tense, and he slouches, which makes the muscles a little tighter to work with. It's harder to get them to melt underneath the pressure of my thumbs, but I do my best.
"Spence, I've got a secret to tell you: girls like guys with long hair."
"They do?" He asks.
"Sure they do," I laugh. "Girls like all kinds of guys. And I really, really like you."
This time, he turns all the way around, his brows knitted together as he smiles.
"You really like me?"
"I like you enough to let you fuck me when I have morning breath and no makeup on. Of course, I like you."
Dean wouldn't fuck me unless I wore makeup— and then he stopped caring and started taking what he wanted.
