The Wicked Pleasures Bundle (Wicked Pleasures: Volume 1/Wicked Pleasures: Volume 2/Wicked Pleasures: Volume 3) Read Online Free PDF Page A

deep breaths to calm myself, I pick up the scent of Brock’s cologne.  It rises over the sweaty, dirty smell of my body.  I raise my arm and sniff.  Oh, God!   I haven’t smelled like this all day, have I?  How in the hell am I ever going to have sex with him if I smell like this?  And now is the perfect opportunity.  I’m in his apartment, about to be naked.  All I have to do is leave the bathroom door unlocked.  Ooh, maybe I’ll even leave it slightly ajar.  The sound of the shower can be his aphrodisiac. 
    Hmmm…clever.  Very clever. 
    Tingles travel to my pussy imagining him pressing up against me.  I fight the urge to walk straight into his bedroom and strip off my clothes.  Screw the shower.
    Ironically, having fast and furious sex seems like the logical thing to do, because we have just worked up a sweat.  Our blood is pumping; well at least my blood is pumping.  Don’t people have sex occasionally after they’ve been working hard; after working up a sweat?  People have sex when they are trying to release the tension from a long days exertions.  I’ve seen it a million times on TV, but I’ve never experienced the feeling firsthand.  Suddenly I‘m now convinced that I should live in the moment, because I might not have many moments left. 
    Shaking my head, I laugh.  Talking about melodramatic, my sister would get a real kick out of knowing I’d helped my neighbor move stuff around his apartment to help him paint.  She’s been after me for months to make a move.  Threatening me that she would, if I didn’t.  She keeps telling me that my careful existence is an embarrassment.  I need hot, desperate, sweaty, dirty sex.  Maybe she is right.
    Come to think of it, maybe my sister has overemphasized the dirty, just to put me on the hot seat.  Or maybe not.  A guy like Brock who is mysterious, with seriously hot friends and who rarely dates should send up some sort of red flags.  No matter how often I tell myself that he is a normal guy, maybe I should just ask.  Maybe he’s gay, and I’m wasting my valuable youth flirting?
    So I’m going to ask, right after my shower.  Right now, I’m sweaty and grungy.  I can do with a cool shower.  I’ll feel much more like facing whatever is coming my way after getting cleaned up.  With luck he has bath supplies.  There is only one way to find out and that is by sliding open the shower curtain and voila .  Wow.  He even has conditioner.  Definitely gay.  Fuck .
    I can smell something delicious wafting from the kitchen.  He wasn’t kidding when he said he was going to make me something delicious.  Almost smells like Italian.  Ooh, I hope he’s making his lasagna.  It’s to die for.  The thought of food makes me feel hungry, which for some reason takes me back to the image of his chest that is ingrained in my mind.  When he pulled his T-shirt over his head earlier and tossed it aside, no doubt because of the heat.  I gulped.  His exposed overly muscular, lightly furred chest caused issues with my fevered brain.  How did lasagna turn into his chest?  I’ve definitely got some serious issues.
    I stand as if nailed to the bath matt, my mind riveted on the superhero ridges of his stomach.  He is a man with muscles to burn.  Oh, to run my hands along those…I moan in the quiet bathroom and it seems to echo.  I slap my hand over my mouth.  The picture in my mind brings an intense wetness between my legs as I imagine hearing him moan, as I caress him and bring him to orgasm.  I clench my jaw.  Then, calling on my famous control, I remove my clothes and quietly shut the door.   I’ll have to handle temptation one moment at a time and hope I’ll be strong enough.
    Inside the bathroom I turn on the water.  I search for a new razor, because I definitely want to be prepared.  I don’t want any surprises and I definitely don’t want to scrape him with a week’s worth of stubble. 
    I wonder if Brock has condoms?  A