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“Thanks.”
I grabbed a plush towel from the warming rack and wrapped it around my naked body that went instantly alert at the sound of his voice. Stepping from one soft sheepskin rug on the floor to the other kept my bare feet from meeting the cool tiles of his travertine floor and took me closer to the door.
I put my mouth near the seam around it and acknowledged his thoughtfulness. “I appreciate you retrieving them.”
“You’re welcome, babe,” he said, sounding way too close.
My pulse beating wildly, I backed away from the door. I caught my doe-eyed reflection in the full-length mirror on the back of it and shook my head at myself.
You got yourself in this situation.
What was I doing showering in Barry’s place? This was too intimate, being naked in his bathroom and him just on the other side of the door. I hadn’t even protested his declaration about moving forward. I’d just sleepwalked compliantly into his amazing bathroom, and here I remained.
What other folly would I agree to? My willpower was nonexistent around him.
“You gonna let me have my turn in there?” he asked.
“Right. Of course. Sorry.”
I gave one last glance to the opulence surrounding me, resisting the urge to bring that intriguing bottle of green glass on the speckled granite countertop to inhale his cologne straight from the source. Forest Mist. It was perfect for him.
“Coming out,” I said.
Pulling in a breath for courage, I popped the flimsy lock. Stepping into his bedroom, I immediately stopped.
For one, he was right there, tall, handsome, and waiting for me. For another, he’d taken off his shirt. Thick corded neck to washboard waist, he was a fantasy of gleaming masculine skin and sculpted muscles.
“Wow!” I said, then covered my mouth.
“Right back at ya, babe.” His lips curving, he swept his gaze over me. “You look sexy as hell in my towel.”
My nipples tightened to tingling points, though thankfully he couldn’t tell beneath the thick towel.
“Wanna show me what’s under there?” he asked playfully in a rumbly voice, then closed the small space between us. His masculine toes only an inch from my pink-tipped feminine ones, his body was a wall of seductive heat.
Visualizing dropping my towel and climbing that wall, I felt my body begin to throb with need.
“Don’t be afraid of me,” he said low. “I won’t touch if you don’t want me to.” He grabbed my ponytail and gave it a teasing tug. “But how about just a little peek under the towel?”
“No,” I said, my voice thready with the rapid beat of my pulse. If he removed the towel, he would see how very turned on I was. And after so many women, unbroken ones certainly, he might be disappointed.
“All right, make yourself at home.” He swept past me, and I resisted grabbing him and telling him I’d changed my mind. “I’ll be out in a few.”
I followed him with my gaze, getting a glimpse of his wide shoulders and chiseled backside before the door closed. It took me a few moments to get my body to cool down.
When the shower came on, I finally moved, padding to the bed. My dark jeans and a hot pink Footit’s T-shirt were laid out on the beige coverlet, along with my blush-pink satin panties and a matching bra.
My cheeks warmed at the thought of him touching my undergarments. I wondered what it would be like to have him touch me, for him to bring our bodies together, for him to make me come.
Stop it, Addy.
I covered my hot cheeks with my hands.
Having thoughts like those stoked flames I’d just put out, flames that I should extinguish. I’d been attracted to Barry at seventeen, and dismissed those feelings as hormones and confusion until he’d kissed me. But I couldn’t dismiss him anymore.
I turned my head, pulled from my introspection by his voice. He was singing in the shower. “Wet” by YFN Lucci.
My lips quirked at the song he chose, but not at the way he sounded. His singing voice was richer, deeper, and more nuanced than it had been when he’d harmonized with the others in ABCR.
