But there was no mistaking the hunger in his gaze.
“So, ah, what now?”
The loaded silence about killed her, until Gavin nodded to the hallway. He skirted her, careful not to make contact, she noted. Then he walked past the living room, leading her back down another hallway toward a smaller living space. It was cozy, filled with a large-screen television, a soft, thick sectional, and a fireplace. With the flick of a switch, he had a fire going.
“Gotta love natural gas.”
She nodded.
“Yep. No chopping wood for these folks.” He smiled. “And no smelly smoke from the flue being blocked. Had that happen a time or two growing up, back when my mother thought it would build character to take us all camping.”
“What happened?”
He placed the towel down over a faux bearskin rug in front of the fire and sat, his back to the fireplace. “My mother and father realized we are not a ‘roughing it’ kind of family. Landon and I basically tormented Hope, Mom, and Theo with spiders. Dad refused to cook in such a primitive setting, without his designer pots. And it rained on our borrowed tent…that had holes. Unfortunately, Mom hadn’t listened to Aunt Beth about trying it out and checking for tears before we camped.”
She chuckled. “I consider myself a hotel kind of camper.”
“Yeah.”
“But you were in the Marines, right? You must have done plenty of camping in the woods.”
To her surprise, his face closed up, and she realized his time in the service had come with a hefty price. He said he’d seen horrible things. It appeared the memory of them wasn’t far away.
Then Gavin seemed to shake off the memories, because he smiled. “I’m a better camper than Landon, that’s for sure. I was enlisted. I worked for a living. My prissy older brother was an officer. Major Pain in the Ass, for sure.” He snickered.
“What rank were you, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“Master sergeant. I wanted to stay a gunny, but they forced the promotion. Most of my time was spent away from a desk, thank God. I’m not an admin, peacetime kind of Marine. I do better out in the field.”
He seemed calm talking about his time in. Then she noticed his fist by his side, clenched in the rug. He saw her watching him and relaxed it, brushing through the fur. “Great place, isn’t it? Want to watch a movie or something while our clothes dry?” He blinked. “Ah, speaking of which, let me find the dryer. I’ll be right back.”
He darted from the room, returning minutes later. “I threw the stuff in the dryer. Hope that was okay.”
Great. He’d seen her polka-dot panties and plain cotton bra.Way to go, May West. Wow ’em with your sexy lingerie.
She nodded and moved closer to the flames, hoping he’d attribute the heat in her cheeks to the warmth of the fire. Keeping her back to him, she held out her hands, enraptured by the flickering oranges and reds.
She started when his breath swept her ear. “Love those panties, by the way.”
She went from nervous to hot and wanting in seconds. Even though she knew it wouldn’t be smart, she turned and saw bare, muscular flesh inches away. Lifting a hand, she stroked his shoulder and saw him shudder. Then she followed the trail of muscle, and one thick vein, down his biceps to his dense forearm.
“Yeah? Well, I love your shirt too.” She stroked his fingers, then traced a pattern over his chest. Deliberately grazing his nipples, she stared up into his eyes, now dark with need.
“Do you?” he growled. “’Cause I’m not wearing one.”
“Uh-huh.” She bit her lip, aware she was aroused all over. Wet between her legs, her nipples taut, her belly doing somersaults as she breathed in Gavin Donnigan. “I don’t do casual sex,” she reminded him—and her.
“Right. No one-night stands,” he agreed, his voice impossibly low.
“Exactly,” she whispered.
And then, somehow, his mouth was on hers, and the passion building between them exploded.
* * *
Gavin couldn’t take it. Two seconds from coming in his pants, just from looking at her. Knowing she wore nothing but skin and that sensual, fluffy robe killed him.
But the nail in the coffin—her fingernails scraping his chest.
