Chapter 3
I didn't bother Eric Wilson.
I waited until he was done, then tiptoed back into the bathroom.
I fished out the clothes he had used from the hamper. Looking at the thick white stains all over them, I didn't need anyone to tell me what that sticky residue was.
"So much..." I whispered, my face burning. "So manly..."
Blushing, I ran my fingers over the marks Eric had left behind.
They were damp, warm, and kind of sticky...
And heavy with the scent of raw male pheromones.
After so long feeling empty, I had no resistance to that smell.
My mind drifted back to the image of Eric roughly handling my clothes, pumping away at himself with them.
What if, instead of my clothes, he had been holding me?
I half-closed my eyes and, as I had many times before, took care of my own needs.
The only difference this time was that I could breathe in Eric's scent.
I went on for a long time, until I was too weak to stand. Only then did I put the clothes back in the hamper.
But a bold thought had already taken root in my mind.
Eric and I were both at that age when our hormones were running wild.
These past couple of days, just swaying my hips in front of him was enough to make him lose his cool.
What if I really stepped up my game and tried to seduce him?
Just imagining it was such a rush.
So the next morning, I deliberately slipped into the bathroom early—and left the door open. I was just waiting for Eric to come in.
And he didn't disappoint me. He walked in, still groggy from sleep, sporting a full-on morning wood.
But the moment he saw me, completely naked, his eyes went wide.
"Go-Godmother?" he stammered, staring at me.
His gaze was like fire, burning over every inch of my skin.
Even the tent in his boxers seemed to strain even more.
"Eric, what are you doing in here? Get out!" I exclaimed, putting on my best shy act.
I quickly grabbed a towel from the rack and wrapped it around myself.
He snapped out of it and hurried out, closing the door behind him.
But I knew he wouldn't be able to forget me now.
Back in college, I had plenty of guys chasing after me—I knew all the tricks to win a man over.
If I didn't, I never would've landed such a rich husband.
"I'm sorry. I really didn't mean to... I swear," he stammered.
When I stepped out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel, he had been waiting for me outside, jumped right into apologizing.
He sounded sincere enough, but I noticed something he couldn't hide—the way he looked at me had grown hotter. Like he wanted to devour me.
Gotcha.
Watching him try so hard to cover up what he really wanted, I felt a little smug. So I deliberately pulled my towel down a little further, flashing him a view of my cleavage as I told him not to worry.
And as I walked past him—just as I'd planned—I let out a small yelp, pretended to slip, and fell.
He didn't have time to think. He caught me instinctively.
Of course, just my luck—in all the chaos, my towel fell right off.
And wouldn't you know it, in all the pulling and grabbing, my towel fell off.
"Godmother... you... you're gorgeous..." he breathed.
Cradled in his arms, I knew that no man—except maybe Michael, who couldn't perform, there probably wasn't a man alive who wouldn't feel something.
Eric was definitely no exception.
Holding me, seeing every part of me uncovered up close, he froze completely.
Leaning against his solid chest, I could see his Adam's apple bobbing up and down.
And at the same time, I felt that indescribable something press firmly against my waist at just the right moment...
It was hard, hot... and seriously big.