“So good.” Her legs buckled.
He released her, stood, and kissed her hard, allowing her to taste her own essence on his lips. She offered up silent thanks for his strength. Without him holding her up, she would have fallen to the shower floor.
Panting, his erection throbbing, he reached for a sponge and squirted some body wash onto it.
“What about you?”
His brown eyes appeared black in the muted light. “This is for me. I want to wash you.”
When the soapy sponge met with her skin, Emily sighed and closed her eyes. Michael started at her neck, lathering up her collarbones and the backs of her shoulders. As he rubbed with one hand, he massaged her with his free hand, his thumb making slow circles on her flesh. He bathed her arms, taking his time, conjuring up erogenous zones she never knew she possessed. Not even her fingers escaped his attention and he took time to play with each digit.
“You have beautiful hands.”
“I like yours. I like all your callouses.”
“What is it with women and callouses anyway?”
“Have you had many women admire your callouses?”
“Not nearly enough.”
Laughing, she retreated, but he brought her back to the circle of his arms. She had a retort but it disappeared on her tongue when he began to lather up her breasts. Round and round he went with the sponge, palming her fullness, flicking her nipples.
“I won’t even tell you what I think of your breasts. If I do, I’ll never stop talking.”
“Flatterer.”
“I’m not flattering you, Em.” He frowned, and the aura of lightness around them darkened. “I’m not sure you realize what you’ve come to mean to me.”
He could go from frivolity to intensity in the blink of an eye. As much as she appreciated his sense of humor, when it transformed into a desire laden with urgency, it blindsided her. Sometimes it seemed he’d already leaped past the next few steps in their romance and she wasn’t sure she could catch up. “Michael, I…”
“I’m under your spell.”
She couldn’t respond and didn’t know what to say anyway. Any words she knew seemed inadequate.
“I realize we’re not in the same place as far as relationships go. I’m sure there’s a part of you that sees me as a fun hook-up, and that’s okay.”
“You’re not just a hook-up to me.”
“I’m glad, but I know you’ve had your heart broken. I’m under no illusion that a couple of dates with me has repaired it. I just want you to know I’m here, whenever you want me, however you want me.”
“I do want you.” His powerful words made her rejoice but they also weighed her down. What if she couldn’t give him what he wanted? “Everything is happening so quickly, though.”
“I know.” He cracked a small smile. “I didn’t expect it either, but here we are, in a shower together, sharing a sponge.” He chuckled at his own joke, but his voice had an edge. If she peeled away the layers, she might almost be able to see the pulsing heart of his sadness. “This doesn’t have to be anything you don’t want it to be. Now let me finish washing you. I haven’t even gotten to the good parts yet.”
Michael asked her to sit on the built-in ledge. He crouched before her and washed her legs from toe to thigh. Emily tensed as he smoothed his hands toward her hips. He pulled her to standing once again. His gaze locked on hers. He moved the soft sponge between her legs and ministered to her sex.
Every touch spelled her undoing, but she was happy to come apart. It all felt so good. The lather, the heat from the water, the pressure from his fingers. His words seemed scripted only for her ears and his smile hinted at perils she’d only glimpsed.
“You have the prettiest little pussy.” His voice was like a warm hug from a dangerous man, tempting her but putting her on guard at the same time.
“Oh, God.” She was close, so close. She could envision the spring inside her belly, tight with anticipation, ready to bounce all over her senses. She hadn’t thought she’d be ready so soon after the last orgasm, although her previous experiences with Michael had taught her he knew how to play her body better than anyone she’d ever known. He was capable of wringing orgasm after orgasm out of her, and he still left her in a state of wanting more.
Just when she was ready to implode, he glided the sponge over her hip and bathed her ass.
She groaned, knowing he was delaying the inevitable to torture her. How could such a giving man be capable of withholding the one the thing she needed the most? “Dammit.”
“You want to come again, sweetheart?”
