Her inner temptress emerged to play. Who knew she had this slut living inside of her? Sure, she’d always liked sex, but she thought she’d repressed that side of her over the past few years, that she was satisfied with her dirty books and battery-operated boyfriends. Apparently not. “I haven’t done this side yet. You were the one who wanted to be clean.”
His jaw clenched, and Genevieve acknowledged that it was Alex who brought about this change in her personality. She’d never quite been the focus of so much male want before—it was a heady feeling.
You’re the only woman here. Of course he’s latched on to you.Genevieve ignored the cynical whisper. So what if this was an extraordinary reaction brought about by extraordinary circumstances? They were both consenting adults.
She finished washing the muscles of his thighs. His cock had hardened to full readiness, curving upward from a dark nest of curls. She grasped it with slick hands and soaped it up, gratified at the near whimper that emerged from his lips.
Genevieve lifted his cock slightly to wash his balls, and he shifted to accommodate her. “God yes.”
Not even pretending to wash him anymore, she gently rolled his balls in her palm.
“Just like that…squeeze. Yes. Christ, Genevieve.”
She released her hold to encircle his penis the way he had taught her. He grabbed hold of her hand before she could stroke him more than twice. “No. The next time I come, it’s going to be inside of you.”
She looked up at him, her body humming. “Are you well enough?” Because if he wasn’t, then she was going to have to jack him off. That’s how desperate she was to have her hands on him.
His expression was a flattering mix of elation and relief. “Hell yes. Come on.”
She laughed as he tried to leave the shower. “Since you’re in here, let me wash the rest of you.” Without bothering to tease either of them, she soaped up his upper torso, careful to avoid getting too much soap near his injuries. Unable to resist, she leaned in for a quick lick of his small brown nipple, uncaring that the water splashed on her hair. He hissed.
She turned off the water and handed him a towel, not trusting herself to touch him. He dried himself off with rough motions and then wrapped the towel around his waist.
“Sit on the toilet seat and let me wrap up your shoulder again.”
Once she was done wrapping a fresh covering, she dug under her cabinet to remove a blue box. When she looked at Alex, his expression was chagrined. “You know, I never even thought about protection.”
The unopened box of condoms had been taunting her for the past few days in the back of her mind. “I’m on the pill, too, but you know.”
“I thought it had been a while for you.” His tone said it all. Why did she need either of those things if she was way up here in the middle of nowhere and had no intention of having sex?
“It has.” She hesitated, and decided to be truthful. “I’m not stupid—I’m a woman living by myself. The birth control is my way of defending myself in case…anything happens. As for the condoms, I guess if someone’s bent on forcing me, I can’t do much about making them wear one. But it makes me feel safer.”
His body had gone rigid while she spoke, his eyes blazing. “I can’t believe you have to worry about that.”
“Hey, I don’t worry over it, but I’m a realist.” Damn, she’d gone and killed the mood. She had the feeling that despite his tough job, Alex was a bit of an idealist. They’d both been knocked around, but he still seemed to believe the best of people.
He stood, his legs still wobbly enough that she had to brace him. He kissed the top of her head. “There’s no force here.”
“No. None at all.”
“Grab the box.”
“The box?” She’d been planning on one or two. Her lower body practically danced a jig in delight.
His slow smile was sex on a stick. “I’m optimistic.”
When they emerged from the bathroom he stopped her before she could lead them to the front room. Genevieve followed his gaze to the overstuffed couch. “Here.”
“There’s a bed…”
“No. I want to see you framed by the snow.” Uncaring of matters of modesty, he flung his towel aside and walked away to settle on the sofa. He sat down with a sigh. “I’m afraid you’re going to have to be on top. I’ll make it up to you later, I swear.”
Like that would be a hardship. The way she was feeling right now, he just needed to sit there, and she’d be happy. She touched the bottom of her shirt. Without bothering to think about it too hard for fear she would lose her nerve, Genevieve whipped the cotton over her head and dropped it on the floor next to her. She unbuttoned her jeans and hesitated, those pesky nerves starting to whimper in distress. Though the snow made the day dreary, plenty of light lit the room. She’d always been a bit shy about her body.
Alex didn’t seem to notice her hesitation, his eyes wide and fixed on her breasts in the heavy-duty utilitarian bra. She wished for the satin and lace she used to wear, but she’d gotten rid of all of those luxuries when she’d come back home. Her version of a hair shirt, so to speak. She had plenty of those.
When Alex reached out a shaking hand, she pushed those thoughts out of her head. “Are you feeling okay? You don’t look too steady.”
