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He slid his hand over the curve of her ass and pulled her close. “You don’t look like Annie. You look like some secret, wild version of the buttoned-up lawyer everyone else knows. I like it.”

“There is no wild version of me.”

“Liar,” he said against her ear, then kissed the hollow behind it, liking the way she shivered against him. “Kissing some guy on the first night just to see what it was like? A little wild.”

She tipped her head back with a sigh.

He slid a hand beneath the wet T-shirt, pushing her bra up and cupping her breast, the feel of all that soft, warm flesh making him go painfully hard. He dragged his thumb over her nipple, and she made a needy sound in the back of her throat that made him lose his words for a second. He licked his lips. “Buying a food truck on a whim to help a charity? Pretty wild, lawyer girl.”

She scoffed, but there was no real oomph behind it.

“Getting naked with someone you used to hate on a Sunday afternoon? Definitely wild,” he declared. “I think you’ve just been fooling everyone else with the uptight routine.”

She gave a lazy smile, eyes still closed. “Never. I’m the good girl, Wes. The straight-A student. I’m the girl next door.”

The mocking in her voice was hard to miss.

“That’s what people say, huh?” He pinched her nipple, eliciting a sharp gasp from her. “Well, they’re not looking hard enough. Because I felt it when you kissed me that first night. You’re all fire, Bec. You’ve just figured out clever ways to bank it. But you can’t hide it from me.”

He pulled the T-shirt up and over her head, taking her bra with it, and cursed under his breath as a sharp kick of need almost rocked him onto his heels. Some of her faint freckles had made a path down her chest, a path that he could imagine tracing with his tongue. But what really did him in was the sight of the tight, rosy points of her breasts, announcing just how turned on she was.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous I can barely stand it,” he said, the words tumbling out of him.

Her eyes blinked open, that deep-blue gaze capturing him. She looked…surprised. He hated that. Hated that being told she was gorgeous was what threw her. Whatever guys she’d had in her life had apparently been idiots who didn’t know how to state the obvious.

He tossed the shirt aside and took her wrists, lifting her arms over her head and pinning them to the shower door. “You keep these here for me. I’m gonna need a minute.”

Her throat worked and she held his gaze, but when he released her wrists, she turned them to grab the shower door and kept them there. “Wes, the water…”

He pressed his fingers over her lips and smiled. “Patience. A chef likes to savor.”

* * *

Savor.

Rebecca was going to implode—just turn into nothing and disappear. No way her body could sustain this level of arousal for any extended period of time. But Wes gave her a look that said he was one hundred percent serious. He wanted her to stand there and let him have his fill.

He reached for the waistband of the shorts she’d borrowed and dragged them down her hips, along with her panties, until they dropped to the floor and she stepped out of them. She had a dart of panic at the thought of being so exposed, but then his hand cupped her breast, and he bent to take it in his mouth.

The wet heat of his tongue grazed across her sensitive flesh and her sex clenched, a soft cry escaping her. The steamy air spilling out of the shower moved over her bare skin, but she was already on fire. Wes sucked and teased, his other hand reaching up to stroke her other breast. Her back arched, and she wondered if it was possible to come just from this. Every nip of his teeth and swipe of his tongue felt like it was between her legs and not just at her breast.

But when he pulled away and looked down her body, the nerves resurfaced like a thousand butterfly wings beating inside her chest.

She took a deep breath. She was no virgin, but for her, sex had always taken a fairly prescribed route. It involved a dark room and sheets and the horizontal position. Being so exposed in the lights of the bathroom had her feeling more than a little vulnerable—and not just because of her scars. But when she caught the look on Wes’s face as his focus slid over her, the worry morphed into something else.

Wes looked like a man who’d just been served the most delicious meal of his life. When he’d told her she was gorgeous, she’d at first been taken aback. Men didn’t call her that. Pretty, at times. Elegant, once or twice. But nothing more emphatic than that. So when Wes had said it, she’d chalked it up to him making her feel good. But seeing how he was looking at her now, she realized she’d been wrong. His attraction was so visceral she could almost feel the desire in his eyes like a touch.

It made her feel wholly…present. Completely in her skin in a way she’d never felt before with a man. Something tightly knotted unwound inside her. “I think it’s exceptionally unfair that I’m the only one naked.”

Wes gave her a sly smile and a look full of heat. “Still bossy even with her hands above her head.”

“You expected that to change?”

“Nope.” He reached for his shorts and pushed them down and off. Rebecca let her gaze travel from the floor upward, taking in the long legs, strong thighs, and then finally the smooth, hard length of him. Her thighs pressed together, the sight of him sending a fresh wave of need through her and reminding her how damn long it’d been since she’d slept with anyone.

Wes took his cock in his hand and gave it an easy stroke as he stepped close again. “Better? All’s fair now, Bec?”

“Only if I can use my hands now.”


Tags: Roni Loren The Ones Who Got Away Romance