Fearless

© TLM Productions LLC, 2020

Blake

Creeping softly across the living room, I’m disappointed to find nothing. This is ridiculous. He has to have more blankets somewhere in this house. Inspecting my outfit, I decide I’m decent, and he said to let him know if I needed anything.

“Hutch?” I call softly, tapping on the heavy wooden door.

Pepper has school tomorrow, so I don’t want to disturb the house. I don’t get an answer, so I place my hand on the doorknob, and the door gently falls open a crack. Peeking my head around the barrier, I see his wood-paneled room is bathed in yellow light from a bedside lamp.

A navy comforter is on his king-sized bed, but no blankets. Surely he has some hidden somewhere. I just need him to show me where.

“Hutch?” I call again, tiptoeing farther into the room.

I’m all the way in when the sound of water streaming meets my ears. My lips part when I realize he’s in the shower, and my heart beats faster when I see the bathroom door is open.

I should go back to my room or wait in the living room. Yes, that would be the right thing to do. I’ve made up my mind to do just that when a low groan freezes me in place.

“F—, yeah…” Another groan, and my jaw drops.

I creep forward, unable to stop myself. Is a woman in the shower with him? And if one is, why am I unreasonably furious about it? Hutch Winston doesn’t belong to me.

Another, deeper moan sends me closer, and my hand touches the bathroom door. It opens a bit more, giving me a full view of Hutch in the shower, completely nude, and alone.

His head is bowed, dark hair falling over his temples, as his biceps flex as his fist pumps vigorously between his legs. He’s leaning forward, bracing the wall with his hand, and his back is a lined wall of tense muscle.

My lips fall open as I watch, as wetness floods my core, and I’m breathing faster. Deep red and black tattoos I didn’t know he had ripple on his back and arms. He’s pumping faster, solid muscles flexing as water traces every line in his perfect body.

I’m hypnotized by the sight, and hot all over.

“F—,” he groans again, and his hips start to rock.

Oh, God, I can’t breathe. I imagine those hips rocking at my back, pumping into me.

His fist moves faster, and every muscle in his body flexes beautifully as he breaks, as he groans seductively, milking his c–k.

His chin lifts, eyes squeezed shut, and with a satisfied moan, he exhales the word that stops my heart. “Blake…”