Silas turns to glance at me and instantly slows down to almost a crawl. “Um, I was hoping to make it a half mile before we turned around.”
“Great.” I have to stop talking and pant a few breaths before I can start again. My legs are starting to feel like lead weights. At least the burning in my calves is gone. “Is this…half…a mile?”
Silas is grinning at me. I’m not sure how he has the energy to use those smile muscles at the moment. “Not even close.”
I stop in my tracks, lungs heaving, arms tingling, and legs officially done. Feels like you could fry an egg on my face rightnow. Hair has fallen out of my ponytail to stick to my sweaty neck and scalp. Even if a bear was chasing me, I’d give up. I mean, we’re still in his neighborhood, but there might be a bear. I haven’t really studied the flora and fauna of Mississippi.
“I’ll…wait…here…for you.”
Silas stops, backtracks to me, and pushes me until I bend at the waist. “Hands on your knees and breathe.”
I do just that, though I sway a bit. Silas holds me steady, which is the least he can do. He’s the one who got me out here and endangered my life. He waits patiently for me to decide if I’m going to live or die. When I straighten up, he takes one look at my beet-red face and has the audacity to chuckle. I don’t have the energy to do it, but I am flipping him off in my head.
Silas stoops over, grabs my hips, and throws me over his shoulder. I yelp, but when he starts moving and all I have to do is hang there like a limp noodle, I keep my mouth shut. He walks us all the way back to his house like this. I’m embarrassed to see we only made it one block away.
He bounds up the porch stairs like I weigh nothing, pushes open the door with his free shoulder, and carries me through the house. I figure he’s going to deposit me on the couch so he can go finish his run, but he veers for his bedroom. I can’t tell much from upside down and half dead, but it looks cozy. Dark comforter, antique chair in the corner, and an attached bathroom. He spins, climbing halfway into the shower to turn on the water before stepping back out and dropping me down to my feet.
The world spins, but Silas doesn’t let go of me. My forehead hits the middle of his chest, making a smacking noise due to the amount of sweat on both of us.
“Ew,” is all I can mutter.
Defeat and dehydration have gotten the best of me.
“Let’s get you in the shower.” Silas is talking to me like a scared shelter dog who’s never seen a bath before. I’m feeling pathetic enough I let him undress me. All the spandex sticks to my wet skin.
When he pulls his own shirt off and drops his shorts to the floor in a sweaty heap, I lift my head. Even on death’s door, I have the strength to ogle the man in front of me. We’ve had sex,twice, and yet both times I never got a good look at his fully naked body.
And I should have.
Because he’s magnificent.
Tanned skin, tight waist, abdominal muscles I can count on two hands, upper-body muscles, thighs that have seen plenty of leg days at the gym, and a light dusting of hair all over. By the time my gaze makes it back up to his face, he’s got a cocky grin topped by sweat-mussed hair that only makes him sexier.
“Like what you see, storm cloud?”
“I’m not sure if the lightheadedness is from you or the run,” I mutter.
That only makes his cockiness grow. And his cock. Huh. That’s interesting. He’s half hard, just standing there under my gaze. Thick and long, nestled in neatly trimmed hair. If I could have ordered a boyfriend from the store where life grants you everything you want, he’d look just like Silas.
Not that I want a boyfriend.
He lifts an arm and points at the shower. “Get in, Betsy.”
I pivot and send up a hallelujah when my legs actually work. Inside the shower, I step right under the stream of lukewarm water. Silas follows me inside, shutting the glass door and grabbing the bar of soap from the shelf built into the far wall. I close my eyes and let the water wash away the nightmare of that run.
“For the record, that wasn’t a run.” Silas runs his hands up and down my arms, leaving a trail of soap bubbles and the faint smell of lavender. “That was, at best, a pathetic warmup jog down the block.”
I spin around, the soap and water making us much more slippery than the sweat—and better smelling. I poke him in his muscular chest. “Be nice. I’m not a runner.”
“No kidding,” he drawls, then bursts into laughter at my offended expression. He keeps running his hands all over me, across my breasts, down my waist, over my hips and between my thighs. I gasp, but try not to get distracted from his insults.
“You know, I have a better idea for what you can do with your mouth right now.”
Silas leans down and nibbles on my neck. “Tell me,” he whispers.
I slide my hands into the hair on the back of his head and grip the strands. “Get on your knees.”
He grins against my neck but doesn’t do what I say. He grabs a bottle of something off the shelf and something cold drips onto the top of my head. “I will, but first, let’s get you all clean, honey.”
