Kat is already in the tub, knees drawn up, arms resting loose over the edge. Her hair is pinned haphazardly on top of her head, stray dark strands curling at her nape and temples.
The tub is freestanding, claw-foot, big enough for two. There’s a marble shelf beside it with a line of travel-sized products and her glass of champagne perched precariously on its edge. She’s half-submerged, shoulders gleaming above the foam. A single line of droplets traces the side of her neck. She tips her head back and looks at me, eyes dark and calm.
“Close the door,” she says. I do. My hand lingers against the cool metal for half a second before I turn to face her, taking in every detail. Her attention is fixed on me now. I feel it like a current over my skin. The air is heavy, humid, charged in a way I haven’t felt since the first time I ever flew.
I’m holding my breath, nerves alive and stretched thin. My palms are warm and tingling. I realize I’m not masking any of this from her. Maybe I should, but I don’t want to.
I step to the tub, lean down to her eye-level. The water makes her skin glow in a way that’s almost unreal. If she’s nervous, she doesn’t show it. Kat never looks nervous. But for once, she’s not hiding from me.
I see the faint flush on her cheekbones, the slow spread of heat down her throat to the tops of her breasts, the way the foam clings to her collarbones. Her nipples peek through the water, rose dark and ready to be touched. Damn, I want her … all of her. But I’ll let her lead on this mission.
Kat leans forward, almost imperceptibly, and the water shifts. Her knees part, not totally as an invitation, just unapologetic openness. I kneel beside the tub, feeling the cold tile bite through my pant leg. The heat radiating off the water is intoxicating. Kat’s eyes never leave mine.
“I’m not used to this,” she says, voice low and close.
“What, exactly?”
She tilts her head, considering.
“Being wanted. Not as a tool or a commodity.”
She lifts her hand out of the water, trailing drops. Her fingers rest on my hand, the one braced on the porcelain edge.
“But as myself.”
Kat draws me closer with barely any pressure. My face is inches from hers, the humidity clinging to my jaw, making my shirt collar stick to my throat. Her breath is warm, tinged with champagne. I lean in the rest of the way and kiss her.
Her mouth is wet and hot, tongue brushing against mine, almost aggressive. She tastes like sugar and champagne. I want to taste it again. Deepening the kiss, my hand slides up her arm, water-slicked, then cups her jaw. Her lips part and I don’t hesitate. I taste the inside of her mouth, the faint tang of alcohol.
Kat’s hand comes up and hooks the collar of my shirt, pulling me toward her. The edge of the tub presses into my ribs.
“You can get in,” she says, voice raw, “or you can just keep kneeling there and watching me.”
I stand and strip my shirt, then the rest. I kick out of my pants and leave them in a heap on the tile. The air is shockingly cold against my skin, but the heat from the bath hits me as Ilower myself into the water across from her. There’s just enough room for two, as Kat slides her legs along mine, stretching her calves flat against my thighs. She’s not shy about it.
The water laps up my chest, hotter than I expect, and the sensation forces a sharp inhale. She leans back, arms folded behind her on the rim, watching me. She fixes me with that impossible gaze — unwavering, but not cold. If she wanted distance, she could freeze a room with one look.
But what I see in her now is hunger. Not for food, not for comfort, but for a kind of contact neither of us is permitted to want. She reaches for my hand beneath the water and brings it to her ankle. I run my thumb along the bones there, up the muscular line of her calf, and she shudders — not from temperature, but because of my touch.
I move my hand higher, skimming her shin, then the inside of her knee. Her thighs open for me, not in a practiced way, but deliberately. She watches my face the whole time, reading me, learning the rhythm of my need.
I slide my hands up her thighs, thumbs slipping over her skin. She is so hot under the water, so impossibly alive. I pause with my palms braced on her inner thighs, waiting for her to blink, to call me off, and recede into the mask she wore that first night. She doesn’t. Kat tips her chin up and meets my eyes, confident.
I move my hand higher, and she exhales, a sound that starts as a laugh and ends as a moan. I raise my body up into a position of hovering over her, water splashing over the rim. When I kiss her again, it’s different — deeper, slower, tasting more than just her mouth. I slide my hands up her sides, over the wet silk of her skin, and catch her just beneath the ribs. I pull her toward me, and she slips in the water, knees bracketing my hips.
Lying back in the water again, I feel her breasts pressed against my chest, bare and slick. We lock around each other, wet skin colliding. Kat’s hands are on my shoulders, then in my hair, holding me at the base of my skull as she kisses me. She tastes every part of me, her tongue pushing and seeking.
The water sloshes, tidal, steamy, and the bubbles are gone by now, replaced by the heat of our bodies and the feel of marble under my back as she clambers over me, straddling me in the deep oval basin. She’s so wet, and not just from the water.
Kat sinks her hips down, slides her velvety core along my cock. Her head drops back, exposing her throat and the fine edge of her collarbone. I want to bite it, mark her, but I don’t rush.
I grip her hips, guide her, allow her to set the pace. She grinds against me with a slow, desperate friction, and her hands clutch at my shoulders like she’s not sure if she wants to hold me down or pull me closer.
Kat’s mouth finds mine again, but this time she’s smiling.
“Thank you, Hawk. This moment we’re having together would never be possible if you had not made the choice of yes.”
Her words are true, but I feel no bravery. If anything, I feel weak because I cannot yet tell her something she needs to know … that I admire, respect and … love her. So I stay silent and allow my wanton feelings of lust, my need to have all of her take control.
