𝐋𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐭 |𝟏𝟖+|

19

Etta Valentine's POV

I woke up this morning to an intense desire swirling in my lower abdomen.

Getting to my feet and heading to shower, my back felt so good I almost groaned in disbelief.

Man, his hands are good.

I'm not sure what time Miguel left last night but I know I wasn't fully conscious when he did. The moment his hands met my body, it was like a thousand mini shocks tingled over my skin even though there was a layer of material separating us.

My desire only grew when the thought of him touching me without a shirt on flashed through my mind. It simply grew when he flashed into my mind.

What was up with me?

Rinsing the shampoo from my hair my newfound need only intensified, and soon enough I gave in and reached for the shower head.

I never do this.

Turning the pressure to the highest setting, I lowered the shower head to the apex of my thighs and charged the water straight to my clit.

My eyes closed and breathing picked up, my mind at war with myself as it forced images of Miguel into my head.

But it didn't really have to force the images now did it Etta?

The ache in my stomach built and built as fantasy's played out in my imagination like a cinema screen.

His wandering hands were on me. His heated breath was on me. His coffee eyes were on me, looking at me like he wished to be the one between my legs.

My breath caught and I froze, utterly bewildered at what I found myself doing.

I dropped the shower head, and for some reason I cried. But it wasn't the sad kind of tears, I was simply overcome with a strange sense of relief?

Maybe it was just me having a moment or maybe it was the feeling of a long time coming, but something inside me switched.

Something inside me was saying I could trust the man who'd walked into my life so randomly it knocked me for six.

But today? Today I wasn't scared of the way he made me feel. In this moment, I didn't feel as though I needed to shove these emotions down like I have been doing ever since that first encounter.

No. In this moment, I finally let myself feel. Really feel. And for some unknown reason, that was immensely freeing.

A few hours of housework later, I pulled on a jacket and headed out to the grocery store to refill my sad looking fridge and cupboards.

I was so incredibly hungry today, and though I'd eaten the leftover Chinese food for breakfast - don't knock it till you try it - I couldn't shake the intense need to eat everything within range.

I got as far as the ground level to my apartment complex before my phone rung.

Miguel.

My face heated up as a flashback to myself in the shower this morning threatened to overcome me. I was really about to get myself off to the thought of him, wasn't I?