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Excerpt from Unbound by His Love part one
“Holy Hannah,” Are the words coming out of my mouth when I see Michelle unintentionally flashing everyone driving by. She looks like she’s truly enjoying the rainfall, as she kicks through the puddles of water with the cutest grin on her face. Michelle’s hair is plastered to her face and lays straight, but I know as soon as it is dry her curls will reappear. I almost cause an accident when the stupid idiot in front of me slams on his brakes to check out the nearly naked goddess that has raindrops caressing her delicious curves. I want to rear-end the guy because it’s pissing me off that he’s ogling her. I groan out loud with frustration. I know I shouldn’t feel so possessive of her because she is engaged and I’m…attached. It makes my skin crawl just thinking of her boyfriend touching her naked body and giving her pleasure. She is so beautiful, almost every night I go to sleep imagining my hands exploring every part of her body and my mouth caressing her skin, ever so gently. I park at the curb because I need to get her out of the rain and into my car. She doesn’t need to continue to put on a show for all of Oshawa. She just might cause an accident, and I’m sure she doesn’t need that on her conscious. Before I open my window and call out her name, I reach down and adjust myself. I can’t seem to control myself in that respect whenever I’m around her.
When I called out Michelle’s name and she notices me in the car, her already bright smile, brightened even more. My heart skipped a beat when I saw the elation on her face after recognizing me. I convince her to get in the car despite her objections. She was afraid she was going to ruin the interior of my car. That is really the last thing I am thinking about. Mostly, I want her to discontinue flashing every guy driving by her on the street, I also just need an excuse to be near her. I am overwhelmed by the urge to get her covered and warm, as well as home safely. I have little worry about the interior of my car. No wait, scratch that, I want to get rid of my raging hard on. As I hand my sweatshirt to her, I notice she has a tattoo. I manage to read it before she pulls away. She’s obviously upset that I noticed her tattoo and keeps pulling her sleeve down, as if to hide it. I want to ask more about her tattoo, but her body language is inferring that she doesn’t want to talk about it.
As she slides my shirt… lucky shirt…over her body I lose control of my eyeballs and they stare at her breasts that are so nicely outlined behind her wet shirt. I can even see that her nipples are hard, and I seriously suspect that I have started to salivate.
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