And God, he loved that.
“Are you getting up,” she asked, facing the mirror, “or are you planning to stare at me all morning?”
Blaze stood.
Her gaze dropped. Then a smirk tugged at her mouth. “Wow. What do you have there?”
“It’s your fault.”
“But I just got out of the shower,” she reminded him.
He crossed the room without hurry, giving her plenty of time to feel the desire building in the air again.
And to see what effect she had on him.
The second he reached her, his hands settled low against her waist.
Johanna inhaled.
Their eyes met in the mirror, and suddenly everything felt quieter.
Blaze bent his head and pressed a slow kiss against her shoulder while his palms slid over the thin cotton clinging to her body.
“You know what I like about you?” he murmured against her skin.
Johanna’s fingers tightened around the edge of the dresser. “That question never ends well.”
His mouth curved against her shoulder.
“You act like you’ve got everything under control.” His lips brushed the sensitive skin beneath her ear. “But you still melt every time I touch you.”
A shaky breath escaped her.
Blaze slid his hands beneath the oversized shirt, palms smoothing slowly up her stomach until he reached her breasts.
Johanna’s eyes fluttered shut. She felt soft, warm, and perfect in his hands.
His thumbs brushed over her nipples until they hardened beneath his touch, and the little sound she made nearly snapped the last thread of restraint he had left.
“Damn,” he muttered. Blaze lifted his head, meeting her gaze in the mirror. “You know how long I thought about this?”
Johanna swallowed hard. “Touching me?”
“You standing in front of me exactly like this.” His hands tightened possessively against her body. “Looking at me like you know what you do to me.”
His palms drifted lower beneath the shirt, fingers tracing the curve of her hips and thighs while he watched her body react to every touch.
Blaze watched the arch of her back, the change in her breathing, and the way she tried and failed, to stay composed beneath his hands.
He kissed her neck again, slower this time, lingering until she shivered.
Then he turned her carefully in his arms. The oversized shirt rode higher. His gaze dropped instinctively. Bare skin, long legs, and no panties.
“Baby,” he said roughly, almost like a warning to himself, “you’re making resisting very difficult.”
Johanna looked up at him through her lashes, deliberately innocent. “Maybe I like watching you struggle.”
His hands flexed at her waist. “Wrong answer.” But the grin threatening his mouth ruined any real authority behind it.
