Free Love Shack (Tiny Houses, Big Hearts) by Roxy Mews Page A

off and his cock pitched a painfully large tent against his pajama bottoms.
    He lowered the waist band and gripped his shaft. Oh, he needed this. All the stress, and all the tension that had built up had him on such an edge that he needed to come like he needed air. He’d either need to masturbate, or he’d destroy his liver draining Felicity’s wine stash.
    Brandon had just woken up to a soft bodied woman, who obviously didn’t wear a bra in bed. His head might be a mess, but his cock knew damn well what was needed. Brandon went for efficiency. He flattened his palm against his hip and looped a finger under his sac, putting pressure against his prostate. He stroked in hard fast motions and all the tension in his body centered around that grip.
    The shower was quiet compared to the rush of blood flooding his dick. He wasn’t sure it could get any harder, but it swelled against his palm.
    Usually, he had a favorite ex-girlfriend’s image to help him through a fantasy. This time…he just had a need. He needed to be touched. He needed the sensation. He needed to come.
    He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so fired up. He stroked and pressed. His breaths turned shallow.
    “I’m all done in the shower. There’s not much hot water left. Maybe I should have asked you to join me,” she said with a laugh.
    The image of both him and Felicity naked and wet and pressed tight against each other in the tiny shower blew apart his efficiency. The thought of pressing her against the tiny glass tiles in the shower as water ran down her round ass popped in to replace his ex. The idea of grabbing onto her braids and forcing her head up… Forcing her to gasp… Growling himself as her back arched and how it would feel to plunge inside of her… He came undone. Before he could stop himself, hot heavy spurts blasted across his stomach.
    Felicity was cracking up at her own joke, and the fact that Brandon would have to take a cold shower. In reality, he needed the coldest shower he could stand.
    He’d just fantasized about the lady who wanted the world to live in shacks.

Chapter Fifteen
    Felicity adjusted the towel over her head. Normally, she’d put it back and let her hair whip around as she danced to some music to help it dry. Today, she didn’t feel like dancing. She felt drained.
    Yesterday had been a roller coaster that had ended with a lot of alcohol. She loved a glass of wine at the end of the day while she read a good book on her e-reader, but she’d had more than her usual share as she’d entertained her guest.
    Her guest who slept in her bed. Her guest who didn’t wear a shirt. That guest didn’t do much to make her home feel cozy. Even her skin felt confining and tight with him around. He was a materialistic ass, but his actual ass was really nice to look at.
    Felicity eyed the bottles of wine. She should have grabbed something stronger, and she could have used a little hair of the dog to work out her hangover. Wine wouldn’t have her praying to the porcelain god, but her stomach was turning at the thought of the coffee that was necessary for her to not destroy people with her bare hands.
    She slid out a slim spice rack. All the way in back sat a big bottle of ibuprofen. Felicity downed two tablets. The sun began to shine through her curtains as it made its way higher in the sky. She swallowed two more pills before she tucked the bottle back into the cabinet.
    The thumping around let her know her guest was making his way out of the bedroom. If it was possible, he looked even better in the morning. His hair was rumpled, there were some creases in his pajama pants in very eye-catching places, and it almost looked like his skin was rosier.
    “I’m going to hop in the shower,” he said.
    She grabbed his arm to stop him. His arm with big flexy biceps. Oh boy. “Wait, the water heater is only big enough for me. How about I make us some coffee first?”
    “I’m good with cold. I’ll have the coffee to warm