Show Me How (It's Kind Of Personal Book 2) by Anna Brooks

gasps when she sees me.
    “I thought you left.” Her frantic hands try to adjust the towel to cover more of her smooth skin.
    “No. Never. You can’t get rid of me now.”
    She walks to the dresser a few feet away and bends over to pull open a drawer.
    “Stop,” I say, swallowing down the anger when I think about another man touching her, seeing her like this.
    Her body freezes, but she looks over her shoulder and narrows her eyes. I stand and walk behind her. My fingers rub underneath the top of the towel, and I give it a tug so it piles up on the floor by her feet.
    “What are you doing?” She tries to cover herself, but I pull her back against my front and grab her wrists, firmly placing them at her sides.
    “You are so hot, Mary.” I let go of her wrists and my hands hover over them for a moment to make sure they stay in place. Then I trail my fingers up her arms until I reach her neck. Gathering her hair in my fist, I grip it and give a gentle pull so she looks up into the mirror attached to the dresser.
    Her eyes meet mine, and I lean down to run my tongue from under her ear down to her collarbone. I let go of her hair, and with both hands, one on each perfect tit, I pinch and circle her nipples. I put my fingers in her mouth to get them wet, then rub the buds harder. She moans and her head falls back on my chest.
    “Watch,” I command. “I want you to see me. See who’s touching you. You need to know it’s me that’s about to make you come.” She whimpers and looks back at the mirror, watching my hands play with her, touch her, love her. “You want to come, don’t you, Mary?”
    She nods and her mouth falls open when I circle her wet clit with my thumb. Everything about her feels amazing. Her skin is soft, her tits are the perfect weight, and her pussy is hot and wet.
    I spread her lower lips with my index and middle finger, then reach down with my other hand and fuck her with two fingers. I’m entranced at how wet she is; my hand’s already soaked. I keep the same slow pace, in and out, then up to gently circle the tight bundle of nerves, and back down to fuck her with my fingers.
    She starts to moan louder and grabs my arm with one hand while the other steadies her against the dresser. “Oh God, Brandon . . . I—I need more.”
    “Yeah?” I pump faster and harder, still keeping her spread so I can watch.
    She begins to get even tighter around my fingers, and her thighs shake. I add a third finger and give a few slaps to the top of her pussy. Our eyes connect in the mirror, hooded and full of lust. She digs her nails into my arm and falls forward while calling my name.
    “That’s right. Brandon. It’s me that’s doing this to you. I’m the one that makes your body shake. Me, Mary. Only me.”

Chapter 9
    Mary
    “Here, Betty. Sorry, I forgot to bring them over yesterday.” I set the bag with her books down on the desk. After Brandon had left this morning, I called Betty, and we talked on the phone a bit about him being back in my life.
    “Thank you, dear.” She smiles and rubs her hands together before reaching inside to pull the book out. Her eyes scan the pages, and I think she forgets I’m standing here.
    “Bye.” I laugh.
    She waves without looking up, and I continue on my way to do the laundry. The motel is relatively empty this week, so my workload is light. I only have two rooms to clean, and I’ve already done everything except wash the sheets. Using disposable gloves, I put them in the washer and sit on the lone chair in the dimly lit room. I keep things to do in a small box in order to pass the time. A few crossword puzzles, magazines people have left behind, and a couple of cheap romance novels. I even got the urge to knit one day, but the needles and yarn are in a tangled pile at the bottom of the box because I couldn’t figure it out.
    I open the book I’m about halfway through and try to get lost in the words. The hero in this story is an FBI agent, and like always,