“Two can play this game, love.”His murmured words are an intimate caress against my ear.
His lips brush my jaw, then trail with agonizing slowness toward my mouth as he reaches for the body wash.His mouth is a mere breath from mine.Just when I think he’s about to kiss me, he pulls back.He flicks the bottle cap open, a knowing glint in his eyes.He aims the cool stream of gel directly between my breasts, making me gasp and arch against the wall.His eyes blaze down at me with a possessive, triumphant heat.He puts away the bottle before his hands return to my skin.With agonizing leisure, they slide up my torso, fingers splaying over my collarbone, then tracing my throat.He smooths the soap over my breasts with unbearable slowness, drawing a broken moan from my lips.
“Matt…” His name is a shattered plea.
“Patience…” His voice is a silken rasp, his own breath coming in fast, shallow gasps.
His touch is everywhere.
A broad stroke down my stomach that makes my muscles clench.
A feather-light caress along the inside of my thigh that has me biting back a cry.
The slick glide of his fingers over my hips, my waist, every touch designed to make me unravel.
My hands are in his hair, gripping tight, my body a desperate plea.He groans my name against my lips, pressing me back against the tiles, his body a hard, demanding heat against mine.
His eyes, radiating with untamed passion, bore into mine.“Game over,” he growls.
He lifts me swiftly, wrapping my legs around his waist.His mouth descends on mine with all the pent-up need he’d been so masterfully reining in.Everything outside the glass walls of this shower ceases to exist.We are lost in the torrent of hot water, slick skin, and our all-consuming storm.
Slowly, reluctantly, the sound of drumming water filters back in.Pressed together against the shower wall, Matthew’s breathing is still ragged, but evening out.I can feel the thrum of his heart against mine, a steady, powerful beat that feels like the new rhythm of my life.A contentment so deep and pure it’s almost overwhelming settles into my bones.
I could stay like this forever.Lost in this steamy sanctuary with him.
He presses a soft, lingering kiss to my lips, then another to my forehead.“Wow,” he murmurs the word in a hoarse, wondering whisper.
A watery, thoroughly satisfied giggle escapes me.“Wow, indeed.”My voice is weak, my body humming with a blissful lethargy.
That roguish glint returns to his eyes.He chuckles and turns off the water.After ensuring I’m steady, he steps out, grabs a towel from the rack, and wraps it around his lean waist.He hands one to me, his eyes lingering on my slick body with an appreciative warmth that sends a fresh flush through me.
Wrapped in our towels, we pad from the steamy ensuite into the sun-dappled calm of his bedroom.Our clothes are still scattered all over the floor.Matthew picks up his boxers, his leather jacket, and jeans on his way to the walk-in closet.I slip back into my underwear and reluctantly reach for my black dress.Matthew returns just as I pull the fabric up, the silk cool against my heated skin.He has transformed.He is back to his effortlessly handsome self in a fitted, dark navy crew-neck sweater and classic light blue jeans.
“Let me get that for you,” he murmurs, stepping in when he sees me struggle with the tricky clasp at the nape of my neck.
“Thanks,” I say, acutely aware of wearing a cocktail dress in the bright morning light.
I feel the light brush of his fingers as he deftly fastens the clasp.“All done.”He presses a soft kiss to my bare shoulder before stepping back.“This dress…” He exhales appreciatively.“You look incredible.”
A deep blush heats my cheeks.“Thank you.”I glance down at the black silk clinging to me, then back up at Matthew, a rueful expression settling on my face.“More nighttime than daytime, really.But it’s all I have right now.”
Matthew’s gaze softens with understanding.“Let’s swing by your place first.So you can change.”
My place.
Icy panic explodes in my chest, a frantic reel of images flashing through my mind…
My cramped office.
My one suitcase open on the floor.
My coat thrown over the couch that currently serves as my bed.
Him seeing all that?
It would ruin this.
I force a smile, hoping it masks the fluttering in my stomach.
