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I got out of the hot shower, and my damp body was still wrapped in a towel when Zach commanded, “Come to me, Abigail.” That stimulating, stern voice was coming from above me.

       My stomach did flips just as I stopped at the entrance of the walk-in closet. That domineering voice had me hypnotized. It was sexy, guiding, welcomed, and turned me on greatly. I started panting, my body tingling and warming. That overassertive tone in which he used spoke volumes of what Zach had planned. I didn’t know if I was going to get Palmer (Zach’s assertive yet loving palm against my ass cheeks) or Palmero, Palmer’s twin. Palmero was more aggressive than Palmer, but I loved him the same. I turned and looked up at the second level of the walk-in closet, and Zach was leaning on the railing, looking pointedly at me, shirtless and barefoot. That was a glorious, breathtaking view.

        With my eyes set on Zach, I obeyed and climbed the stairs at an even pace. The further I climbed to the second level, gaze steady with his, the more Zach lured me in. My pussy was already thumping, preparing itself for Zach’s huge invasion, in any position he so desired. When I finally reached him, he stood directly in front of me, our bodies barely touching, pulled the towel free from me with authority, and, with his delectable lips a mere inch from mine, he seductively said, “This towel has no use; it’s only a distraction.” He threw it to the floor.

        The heat his body radiated told of the inferno within. He was burning with desire, and I knew a short sex-sion wasn’t going to put out that fire—Zach and I were going to be up all night long. I felt the goose bumps form on my skin just as he softly nuzzled against my neck, groaning under his breath, until he gently bit my earlobe and demanded, “Follow me.”

        Always obedient, I followed him deeper into the closet, admiring the back view of his sexy, toned body and nice tight ass in a pair black low-rise lounge pants he wore. He leaned against one of the necktie racks, left ankle over right, barefoot, and with his sculpted arms crossed across his chiseled chest. With his eyes fixed on me and burning with undeniable, shameless need, he motioned his head to a pair of burgundy, four and a half-inch Gucci ankle cuff pumps in the center of the room and said, “Put them on.”

        With a smile, I obeyed, slipping my right foot in first and bending over to buckle the ankle strap. I didn’t need to look in Zach’s direction to see if he was taking in the sight—I felt his eyes on me, swallowing me whole. After I got the left shoe on, I looked down at my feet, turning each foot in various angles, loving how beautiful they looked on my feet.

        Zach made his way behind me, his hot, hard body pressed close against mine, and while gesturing his left hand in an offering manner, he commanded, “Pick a tie.”

        At the sound of that, my heart skipped a beat and then picked up pace. He had never ordered or given me that option before. Pick a tie. What the hell was Zach about to do to me? Clearly, he knew I would be baffled, and that I was as I stood in shock, staring at him in my naked glory, nipples getting harder, pussy wetter, and a fire boiling in my own core. But, without delay, I walked over to the wall, gently brushed my left hand along a row of ties as I walked from one end of the closet to the other, adding fuel to the fire—teasing him—by swaying my hips and looking back at him over my shoulder. I felt sexy in my pumps and birthday suit, and the look on my husband’s face said he thought so, too.         

        I selected a red tie to match my new pumps and turned to Zach with a smile. “I choose this one,” I said.