Chapter EightPaige
Cannon got home just after midnight. I hated myself that I’d waited up, listening for him, but I had. He came home alone, used the bathroom—I’d heard his electric toothbrush humming through the thin wall, the water running—and then closed the door to his bedroom.
Our encounter earlier that evening had played through my mind for hours. It was twice now I’d seen him naked, and I knew I’d never erase the images from my brain. I couldn’t believe the man he’d grown into. And that foul mouth on him?
Your tight little n*****s are poked out, begging to be licked . . .
Remembering the way his darkly seductive voice rolled over the words sent a fresh wake of goose bumps skittering down my spine.
Thankfully, the morning passed by quickly. Cannon went to the gym and showered wh
