“That’s silly. Why drive when I have a driver?”
“Miranda,” he said, tone a mix of amused and firm as he got closer, a little too close if you were asking my libido, and ducked his head down a bit. “I’m driving. Give Mitchell the day off.”
“Okay,” I agreed, feeling my belly doing little flip-flops at his nearness. We weren’t going to talk about what another part of my anatomy was doing about it.
“Okay,” he agreed. And, was it just me, or had his voice gone a little sexy-soft when he said that?
No.
That was my wishful thinking.
“I am going to go take this and have a long bath,” I told him, reaching for my cup of tea.
This time, though, I was almost positive it wasn’t wishful thinking, that his eyes did go just a bit hooded and heated at that comment.
Which only made the situation worse.
“Yeah,” he agreed. “A shower and some sleep sounds good tonight.”
Oh, damn him.
Did he do that on purpose?
I made him think of me naked, so he had to make me think of him?
No.
That was ridiculous.
I needed to get it together.
“Okay. Well… goodnight,” I said, taking a step toward the doorway.
“Goodnight, Miranda,” he said, and I pretended to ignore the little thrill in my belly at the sound of my name in that soft-sexy voice, and the way his gaze was still on me until I was completely out of the doorway.
But when I looked back, he was leaning on the doorjamb, watching, until I caught him, then he retreated back into the kitchen.
It wasn’t long after that I was sunken deep into a hot tub, my head slamming back on the porcelain as I heard him move into the guest bathroom that shared a wall with mine.
Probably taking off his clothes, getting ready for his shower.
Taking a deep breath, I gave into the raging need between my thighs, letting my hand move down my body to tease my fingers up my cleft at the sounds of water splattering on the tile floor one room away.
In my mind, I imagined him overcome with the need as well as he reached down to start working his cock as I worked on my clit.
I was so wrapped up in the moment that I forgot all about being quiet, about not being alone.
The cries of my orgasm echoed off the walls of the bathroom, the sound jerking me right out of my daze and into the present moment, suddenly all too aware of the fact that the water had stopped in the other bathroom, the sound that may have muffled my cries.
So, yeah, I was reasonably sure he’d heard.
“Damnit,” I hissed as my foot unplugged the drain as I stood up.
Maybe he’d gone to bed before I’d gotten loud.
At least, that was what I had to hope for.
Since we were going to be cooped up in a car with each other for more than an hour the following day.