Dear Rosie,: Love Letters Book Two, page 25
“Your feet are adorable.”
I scrunch my nose. “Adorable?”
“Uh-huh. I’ve never really understood the whole foot fetish thing, but now…” He gives a thoughtful look. “If you asked, I’d be willing to put your big toe in my mouth.”
“Oh my god!” I recoil against my pillow. “Why would I want you to?”
“You tell me. It’s your toe.”
I shake my head. “You are unhinged.”
“You’re the one asking me to suck on your toes.”
“I certainly did not ask that,” I argue, then I put my hand up to stop the conversation. “How’s the convention going?”
Nathan groans. “I’m surrounded by fucking nerds.”
I laugh. “Hate to break it to you, Mr. CEO…”
“You wouldn’t dare.”
I smirk. “Only a couple days left, then you can go hang out with Maddox and talk about football until your chest is covered in so much hair we can sell pics of it for money.”
“True, true.” He sighs and runs a hand over his sternum.
I shake my head. This man is so weird.
Nathan tilts his head, getting a look in his eyes. “You’re still thinking about me sucking on your toes, aren’t you?”
“Goodbye, Nathan.”
“One sec.” I answer Nathan’s video call on my laptop, then go back to my Word doc.
He’s silent for a few moments as I type before he speaks. “What are you working on?”
I hit save, then minimize the screen, revealing Nathan’s curious face. “Stuff,” I say, just to be a pest. “You all done for the night? No fancy dinners?”
I’m lying in bed, back propped against the pillows, already in my pajamas. And Nathan is lying front side down on his bed, bare chest propped up on a pillow, wet hair slicked back, with a few stragglers loose around his temples.
And my god, he’s good looking.
He shakes his head. “Told everyone who invited me out that I had other plans already.”
“And your plans were to lie naked on your bed, talking to me?”
He smirks. “I’ve got my undies on.” I snort at him calling them undies. “And I grabbed a sandwich from downstairs on my way up. I’m so done with people, I didn’t even want to order room service.”
“I don’t know how you do it. Just one day of those crowds, and I’d be hiding under my blankets.”
Nathan props his chin in his hand, and it makes me want to reach out and scratch my fingers through his facial hair. “It’s not so bad. I got used to a lot of bullshit and attention during my football days. But I deal with the public a lot less now and definitely have a shorter fuse. And the novelty has kinda worn off. I’d rather be home.”
Under the handsomeness, I notice he looks tired. And that makes me want to give him a hug.
But I can’t, so I give him the next best thing. The truth.
“I miss you.”
His smile is slow. “I miss you too.” My heart skips a beat because I know he means it. “Now, tell me what you’re working on.”
I huff. “You’re so nosy.”
“I know. Now tell me so I don’t have to hack into your computer.”
I narrow my gaze at him. “Can you really do that?” Then I remember him getting my grocery list off my laptop and decide he probably already has.
Charles chooses this moment to climb onto my chest, putting himself between me and my laptop.
“Hey, little man. How was your day?” Nathan asks his cat.
Charles turns to face the screen and meows loudly.
“Just one more sleep, bud,” Nathan tells him in reply, reminding me that he’s coming home tomorrow.
“Is it really okay that you’re skipping dinner the last night?” I ask him over Charles’s back.
“CEO, remember? I don’t need to suck up to anyone.”
“True.” I run a hand down the cat’s back. Then I sigh. “I’m working on that cookbook.”
Nathan’s brows raise. “Your own cookbook?”
I press my lips together and nod.
The image on-screen tips up to Nathan’s ceiling, spins around, then it’s back on him as he sits up straight on the bed. “That’s amazing! Tell me what you’ve got so far.”
His excitement goes straight to my heart.
So I tell him.
And when he keeps asking questions, I share my screen with him.
And when I do that, he insists on switching from his phone to his laptop so he can see better.
And then we spend the next two hours talking about my cookbook. From chapter titles to the idea of brand deals to the photographers Nathan thinks will be good for still shots…
“This is all still just an idea,” I remind him.
He shakes his head. “It’s more than an idea, Rosie. You’re already doing it.”
He’s so… excited.
And the warmness of his excitement settles into the center of my chest.
“Thank you.” I try to keep my tone light.
“Don’t thank me. You’re doing all the work.”
“Only because of your support.” I force myself to keep my eyes on the screen. On Nathan. “No one has ever believed in me like you do.”
His throat moves on a swallow. “I’ll always be your person.”
“I know,” I say quietly.
“I think I know what you should title the book.”
The side of my mouth pulls up. “And what’s that?”
“Rosalyn’s Recipes.”
It’s simple.
It’s a mimic of my catering company.
“It’s perfect.”
ONE HUNDRED TWENTY-TWO
ROSALYN
I’m careful to put my dirty clothes into the hamper, checking that I haven’t left anything out of place on the bathroom counter.
Charles circles around on the couch pillow I’ve placed on the floor for him outside the shower, and I make a mental note to put that back when I’m done showering.
I know Nathan won’t care if the condo is clean or messy. But letting him come home to an organized space is the least I can do.
Naked, I reach into the shower stall and turn on the water.
Nathan isn’t due home until tonight, but I want to take my time getting ready and pamper myself a little bit. Because if we don’t have sex tonight, I’m going to riot.
ONE HUNDRED TWENTY-THREE
NATE
I don’t knock before I open the front door, hoping to surprise Rosie with my early arrival.
But it doesn’t matter if I knocked or not, because she’s not in the living room.
I glance around the great room.
She’s not in the kitchen either.
I kick off my shoes and leave my luggage by the door.
As I walk past the kitchen island, I slow.
Glass containers cover the surface, all filled with tiny fish-shaped crackers.
I grin and shake my head.
Rosie told me she made Charles some homemade treats as an apology, but she didn’t tell me she made a thousand.
I unbutton my shirt as I walk down the hall.
I throw it to the floor as I enter the bedroom.
I undo my pants as I cross the room.
I kick them off as I stop at the bathroom door.
And when I see Rosie’s silhouette behind the frosted glass of the shower, I shove my boxer briefs to the ground.
ONE HUNDRED TWENTY-FOUR
ROSALYN
I hold the razor up under the spray to clean the blades.
Nathan seems to like my… curls, and I’m leaving the patch above my area as it is, but I want to shave the rest. I want the rest of it to be silky smooth for his arrival.
One side is done.
I shift my back to the water and put my left foot—brace removed and lying on the floor outside the shower—onto the stool.
With the hand not holding my razor, I pump a healthy amount of my shaving oil into my palm.
When Ruth went to my apartment for my gold dress, I had her grab some more clothes and all my shower items. And as I smooth the oil over my skin, I’m grateful, because I love this stuff.
A waft of cool air fills the shower stall, and I glance over my shoulder.
Then I let out a startled squeak as a completely naked Nathan steps into the shower.
His eyes are hooded, and he has a hand on his already hardening cock as he closes the door behind him.
“What are you doing, Little Rose?”
Frozen, I stare at him. My foot is still up on the stool, knee turned out, giving me room to work and giving him a view of everything.
“Can I help?” His voice is low. Husky.
“Help with what?” Suddenly, my mouth feels so dry.
He reaches down and takes the razor from my hand.
Then he bends so our mouths are just an inch apart. “I want to shave this sweet pussy. And I’m not taking no for an answer.”
He closes the distance and presses his lips to mine for the first time in nearly a week.
And he tastes like fucking heaven.
My eyes drift closed, and I reach for him, gripping his naked sides, my one hand still slippery with oil.
He drags his tongue across my lips, and I open for him.
As he invades my mouth, I lower my oil-covered hand and close my fingers around his length.
He groans, and his cock jumps in my hand.
The lubrication makes it easy to slide my hand up and down.
To feel him.
To squeeze him.
The fingers of my other hand dig into his side.
He’s here.
He’s here, and he’s naked, and he’s with me.
Something that might be joy bursts inside my chest.
I start to shift closer to him, about to lower my foot, but he grips my hip—holding me in place—as he pulls away.
“Stay.” He thrusts his hips forward once into my grip, then lowers himself to the floor, his dick sliding out of my hand as he does.
Kneeling before me, he’s eye level with my pussy.
“I’ve never done this. But I really want to.” He slides his tongue across his lower lip as he looks up at me. “Will you let me?”
Will I let this sex god of a man shave my vagina?
Yes. Yes, I will.
I shift my weight, rotating my hips and opening my stance, revealing more of myself to his gaze.
His mouth pulls into a wicked smile. “Have I told you how fucking perfect you are?”
I reach down and brace one hand on his shoulder. “Not today.”
Nathan leans forward and presses a kiss to my inner thigh. “You’re fucking perfect.” His lips touch my skin with each word.
Then he reaches for the shaving oil I left sitting on the stool next to my foot.
He sets the razor down and uses two hands to dispense oil into his palm.
Steam swirls around us, the water pelting Nathan in the back, but I swear I can still feel his exhale as he leans closer.
“Just this side left,” he says to himself as he touches his fingertips to my skin.
I can’t help my jolt at the contact, but then he applies a little more pressure as he slides his fingers down the crease where my thigh meets my center, feeling the smoothness of the area I just shaved.
He reaches his fingers between my legs, sliding over until they’re aligned with my slit, then he drags them forward.
Even with the residual oil on my skin, there’s no mistaking the new wetness gathering there.
Nathan groans. “Just let me do this.” His fingers stop against my clit, and he holds them there. “Let me do this first, then I’ll make you come as much as you can handle.” He drags his fingers off my clit. “Tell me that’s okay.”
My eyes are nearly rolling out of my head. “Yes. Just hurry up.”
He chuckles, and then his other hand is there, smoothing the oil over my skin.
I should be nervous about having someone this close, ready to drag a sharp blade over the sensitive skin of my pussy.
But when he holds me open…
When he drags the razor across my skin the first time…
All I can feel is pleasure.
Pleasure at having his hands on me.
Pleasure at knowing he’s hard as stone doing this.
Pleasure at having someone take care of me.
Nathan holds the razor under the shower stream, then starts again.
ONE HUNDRED TWENTY-FIVE
NATE
My cock is fucking dripping onto the shower floor.
I don’t know if I’ve ever been this turned on before.
Which seems to be how I feel every time with Rosie.
The act itself, the glide of the razor over skin, isn’t sexual.
But fuck me if it doesn’t have me ready to come all over her feet.
My cock twitches, and I put the thought of her cute little toes out of my mind.
There’s only time for one new kink today.
I use my fingers to spread Rosie open, checking for any spots I missed.
Her flesh is so soft. So pink and pretty.
If she wasn’t covered in this floral-scented oil, I’d devour her. But I know this isn’t edible, so I’ll settle for fucking her hole instead of eating it.
With one last pass of the razor, I set it down on the floor, out of the way.
Still kneeling, I wrap my fingers around her injured ankle and gently help her lower it back to the floor.
Then I grab the little jar off the stool and look at the label as I stand. “What’s this?”
“We don’t have to…” Rosie’s voice is breathy.
She stayed quiet while I shaved her, but the way she’s almost panting is giving her away.
She liked that as much as I did.
“Tell me what to do with it.” I change my question to a demand, and I start to unscrew the lid.
Rosie takes it from my hands, holding it farther away from the spray as she takes off the top.
The substance inside is pink, and she scoops out a small amount, maybe the size of a small grape, then replaces the lid.
“It’s a scrub. To keep things smooth after shaving.” She squashes the scrub between her fingers, then holds it out to me.
I take it from her.
I’ve used scrubs on my face before, when I had photo shoots, so I’m familiar with the idea.
“I’m going to enjoy this,” I tell her with a smirk, then I grip her around the waist with my empty hand and haul her so her back is to my front.
My hard cock nestles against her ass, and she arches into me.
Then I reach around to her front with my other hand and gently rub the scrub over her folds.
I spread my fingers, my pointer finger on one side of her pussy, my ring finger on the other, then I stroke up and down.
The scrub starts to dissolve under my touch, working into her skin, leaving a smooth coating behind.
Against me, I can feel Rosie’s chest rising and falling as her heartbeat increases.
That’s when I add pressure to my middle finger. Dragging it through her wetness, up to her clit.
“This is the first one,” I say against Rosie’s ear. “I want at least two.”
“First?”
I answer her question by flattening all my fingers over her pearl of nerves and rubbing in a circle.
“Oh. Oh god.” She clutches at my arm banded around her waist.
“You can be quick this time, Pretty Rosie.” I let my teeth graze the bottom of her ear as I rock my hips against her. “But I’m dragging the next one out.”
Her fingers dig into me. “I-I can’t stand up.”
I tighten my hold on her. “I won’t let you fall.” I dip my fingers inside her, then focus back on her clit. “Now be my good little girlfriend and come.”
ONE HUNDRED TWENTY-SIX
ROSALYN
My core pulses and my knees shake as I come apart on Nathan’s fingers.
It’s so intense that I close my eyes and let him take my weight, because if it wasn’t for his arm around me, I’d collapse to the tile floor.
“That’s fucking it.” Nathan’s groan is loud against my back, and he rocks his hips against me.
He pulls his hand free from my pussy, and a moment later, the water is off.
My eyes fly open when I’m suddenly airborne, in Nathan’s arms, bridal style, like when he carried me to his office.
“Can’t wait,” he grits out, fingers tightening on my damp skin.
We exit the shower, but Nathan doesn’t pause for a towel.
Leaving a trail of water, he carries me out of the bathroom and drops me on the bed.
The droplets collecting on my skin soak into the fluffy comforter below me, and my hair is a wet mess around my head, but I can’t pretend to care about any of it, because Nathan is crawling over me.
I spread my legs, lifting my knees, and Nathan doesn’t stop until he’s directly above me.
With his eyes on mine, he reaches between us and lines the tip of his dick up with my entrance.
Love you.
The words are there.
In his eyes.
Stuck in my throat.
Floating between us.
I reach for him, hooking my hands under his arms and gripping his back.
He pushes into me, inch by hard inch.
I pull him closer.
My breath is coming in pants as I stretch around him.
It’s been so long.
Too long.
And I need him closer.
“Nathan,” I moan, straining my neck up toward him.
“My Rosie,” he groans.
Then he shoves his hips forward as he drops his mouth to mine.
Our tongues battle.
My nails dig into his skin.
His cock thickens inside me.
And our breaths are one.
I inhale his exhale.
He fills his lungs with mine.
We move.
My hips lift.
His thrust.
We taste each other.
