He rested a palm on her cheek, forcing her gaze to his. Reason argued this was a bad idea.Fuck reason.It was only for one night. Neither of them had illusions to the contrary. “Or we could share.”
She laughed but cut it short and caught her bottom lip between her teeth. He drew his thumb along her mouth, tugging her lip loose. So fucking alluring. Every inch of him begged him to dip his head and capture her mouth.
*
BAILEY THOUGHT JONATHANwas joking, until she took a second look. The want in his eyes. The tension vibrating through his grip, despite his gentle touch. She was used to being the hunter. This was different. And dangerously tantalizing. “To save water? Is this a conservation thing?” It took more effort than she expected, to keep the joke in her words.
“If that’s what you want to call it.” Each time he dragged his thumb across her skin, sparks sped through her thoughts, erasing reason.
“What would you call it?” she asked.
He stood so close, she was surprised the fire burning between them didn’t turn the water on their clothes into steam. “Sating a desire. Quenching a thirst. Making up for lost time. I’m not too picky about terminology, as long as it involves me stripping you down and exploring your body.”
“I don’t...” She couldn’t finish the protest. Her body tingled in anticipation. If she leaned closer, their lips would meet. She’d feel his hard body against hers. Desire spilled inside. This was the biggest mistake she could possibly make right now. Bits of her still cared about him; the parts she tried to ignore since he showed up yesterday meant this wasn’t meaningless for her. But he wasn’t looking at it that way. He hadn’t shown any interest beyond staring, until she brought up the one-night stands. This was only sex for him.
“Don’t what? Don’t want to get involved? You said it yourself last night—I’m leaving in a few days. This isn’t a long-term agreement. Or maybe you’re implying you don’t do one-night stands. I was listening, and that’s not true. You don’t think you’re interested? I’ll reference last night again.” He stepped back, hands up, putting a few inches between them. “Though you may have changed your mind.”
His logic confirmed her suspicions. This was a physical encounter, nothing more. But freaking hell, she wanted him close again. Wanted another kiss like last night’s, but with the power of sobriety behind it. Wanted to know what he felt like. She was willing to bandage her heart later if it meant having him now. “I don’t think the shower is the best place for something like that.”
He chuckled as he rested his palm on the base of her neck, to pull her closer. “It’s a starting point.” He kissed her hard, holding her head captive and claiming her mouth. His tongue danced out to meet hers, probing and hungry. The scent of rain lingered on his skin, mixing with the faint musk of his cologne and teasing her thoughts.
Summoning the brain power to form words, she broke the kiss. She almost dove back in when he frowned, a question heavy in his dark eyes. “Bathroom’s this way,” she said. When she grabbed his hand, his warm grip sent a rush of desire pulsing through her. “Shower?”
“Right. Getting clean. That’s what we’re doing.” The moment they were in the small room, he pressed his lips to hers again. Nipping became a consuming crush of skin against skin.
She needed to feel more. When she tugged at the bottom of his shirt, wet fabric slid against her palms, teasing and tempting.
He broke away, to let her pull the clothing off and toss it aside. “Impatient?” he asked, diving back to her lips as soon as the path was clear, then kissing along her jaw and down her neck. He moved his hands to her waist, under her top and against her bare skin. The heat of his grip obliterated clammy chill.
She tilted her head with a sigh. Every kiss, nibble, and touch drew her further into the invisible bubble around them. The one cutting them off from reality. “We have to get out of the wet clothes. Otherwise we’ll catch something.”
“Hmm...” His lips vibrated against the hollow of her throat. “Practical. I like that.” In a fluid motion, he yanked her shirt over her head, then pulled her to him again. His bare chest against her body seared through all of her.
She reached back, to unhook her bra, and let it fall into the growing pile of clothes. The humid air on her bare skin soothed already-hard nipples. He cupped her breasts, chasing away the cold. “You need to be warmed up.” A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.
“What did you have in mind?”
He kneaded one breast, and the numbness of cold rapidly evaporated. He lowered his head and took the other nipple in his mouth. Arousal sparked through her, growing when he sucked hard on the swollen nub. She squeezed her thighs together, but it didn’t quench the growing throb between her legs.
When he broke away, disappointment welled inside Bailey. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing at all.” He kissed her lower lip before spinning away to turn on the shower. “It’ll be warmer in there.”
“Of course.” She wasn’t sure she cared, as long as she could press against him again. They shed the rest of their clothing. She looked down the length of his body, memorizing every line of definition, from his strong chest to the fine trail of blond hair leading down his stomach, to an impressive... asset. She forced her gaze back up, to find him studying her with as much intensity as she’d directed at him. She liked that look.
He shook his head and prompted her to join him in the tub and under the hot stream of water. With a twist, he positioned her to face away from him. He trailed his lips up her back, along the shoulder blades. “I’m still worried about this bruise.”
“I’m fine.” His concern sank into her senses as deeply as his touch, mingling and amplifying everything. If he’d done this thirteen years ago, instead of leaving... She shook the thought aside. The past was her mistake. She couldn’t blame him. Besides, this was temporary, as it should be.
“I still think we should keep the pressure off it.” He danced his fingers over the tender skin, and then pulled her close, so her back rested against his chest. “We’ll have to be gentle.” He reached around her to grab the body wash and squirted a dollop in his hand.
Her anticipation spiked, turning her body into a quivering wire, waiting for the right contact in order to find release. “I don’t really dogentle.”
“Only with your back.” He settled his palms against her stomach. The shock of the cold soap quickly vanished. He found her nipples again and pinched hard, drawing a groan and sent a pulse straight to her core. The sharp cherry of the soap mingled with hints of pain, chasing away the exhaustion of the long day. Each time he tugged and tweaked, she ground into him. His cock dug into her ass. She tried to face him, wanting something to grip and needing an outlet for the pleasure filling her.
He held her firm. “Not yet. We’re getting clean.”
The slippery desire between her thighs disagreed. “Is that what this is?” she asked.