Page 87 of Fractured Sky

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Shyhad always felt a little like an attack on my character after the kidnapping, on how I was dealing. “I like that you call me Shiloh.” The sound of my full name from his mouth was deep and grounded but also free—everything I wanted to be.

“Good.” Ramsey leaned forward, pausing in question. I closed the distance, and his mouth took mine in a long, slow kiss. His tongue stroked, pulling me forward and closer to him.

My hand dipped beneath the water, dancing over the ridges of his abdomen. I pulled my mouth away from Ramsey’s, not because I didn’t love the feel of his lips on mine but because I wanted to see his face. Wanted to know how my touch affected him.

As my hand moved lower, those onyx eyes burned.

My fingers wrapped around his shaft, and air hissed through Ramsey’s teeth. The skin was so smooth, almost delicate. But he was rock-hard beneath that silk.

I didn’t look away. “Tell me what to do.”

Ramsey swallowed. “Firm grip. You won’t hurt me.”

I tightened my hold on him a fraction, and he let out a humming noise.

“Move your hand up and down.”

I started the motion. It was awkward at first, but I watched Ramsey’s face, paying attention to each change in his expressionand every hitch of his breath. He didn’t have to say a word, and I slowly found what felt good for him. And each stroke of my hand brought with it a surge in my confidence.

Knowing that I turned him on? It had me pressing my thighs together to relieve the ache building there.

“Shiloh,” Ramsey whispered as I moved my hand faster.

That golden skin pulled tight across his muscles as I continued stroking. His head tipped back, his hips pushing into my hand. With a grunt and shudder, release flowed through him, and I’d never felt more powerful.

Ramsey’s eyes fluttered open. “Best damn bath I’ve ever taken in my life.”

32

RAMSEY

Wrappingthe towel around my hips, I didn’t miss the way Shiloh’s gaze trailed over me. I wanted to touch her more than anything I’d ever wanted in my life. But I would never push. I couldn’t bear it if I were the source of her fear. It had to happen in her timeframe.

I pulled the terrycloth taut and folded it over. “Stay with me tonight?”

The words were out before I could stop them. I watched for any sense of hesitancy on her face. Her fingers grasped the tie of her robe tightly, but she nodded. “I need to take a shower first.”

Those everyday words were almost painful to hear. I would’ve given anything to step inside those shower walls with Shiloh and run my hands over that smooth, tanned skin. To feel the weight of her breasts in my palms and grip her hips as I— I gave my head a tiny shake, trying to clear the torturous images from my mind.

“I’ll be in my room.” I hurried from the bathroom like my ass was on fire. Too much temptation.

I closed the door behind me and sucked in air. Silence greeted me. I could picture Shiloh on the other side of that door,unmoving, both of us trying desperately to right ourselves after our encounter.

Kai’s deep snores sounded from the living room, and it had my lips twitching. Leave it to my dog to bring me back to Earth.

I headed down the hall and into the secondary room. Moving to the dresser, I pulled out a pair of flannel sleep pants. I didn’t typically bother with them, but since coming to stay in the guest cabin with Shiloh, I’d been donning them.

Tossing the towel into the hamper, I moved to the bed. The shower switched on, and the sound was like a cascade of bullets hitting my chest. I groaned as I slipped between the sheets and collapsed against the pillows.

I listened to the symphony of agony, taking note of every change in tenor. When something interrupted the water. When it switched tempo. And, finally, when it stopped altogether.

A blow-dryer switched on. I pictured that cascade of brown and gold as Shiloh dried her hair. Saw how the fairer strands caught the light as if she were right in front of me.

The hair dryer went silent. My gut tightened as I waited. One minute bled into the next, and I started to wonder if Shiloh had reconsidered when a soft knock sounded on my door.

“Come in.”

The door opened, and Shiloh filled the space. She wore navy plaid sleep shorts and that damned t-shirt that hung off her shoulder, the one that was so threadbare I could see the curves beneath it.


Tags: Catherine Cowles Tattered & Torn Romance