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The words bleed together and when I flip to the end, the thin pages rip clean from the binding, all but disintegrating in my hands.
“Jesus,” Ethan groans, stomping forward. “What are you going on about?” He yanks the towel out from underneath the book and throws it onto me.
Ah yes, I’m nude.
Oh so nude.
My eyes fly up to his, and he’s looking down at the book, his hands on his hips, his face pulled into tight angry lines.
“Sorry,” I mutter, though the word sounds weak and useless.Chapter 17EthanLet’s get one thing perfectly clear: I don’t give a shit about that book. I couldn’t recall the name of it right now if my life depended on it.
She’s going on and on about it as she stands up and wraps the towel around herself, and though she didn’t ask me to, I whip around and give her my back. I’d expect her to be embarrassed to have been caught naked in the tub. Instead, she keeps apologizing for ruining my book. Who cares about the book? I walked into the cabin, expecting to find it empty, and instead, I found Taylor, sitting there with her hot curves on full display. Instead of walking right back out the door like a gentleman and giving her privacy, I stood there dumbstruck, lost, utterly enraptured by a woman who is nothing short of a fantasy with her tantalizing breasts, narrow waist, and long wet hair.
I am so ridiculously hard right now, I’m actually glad Taylor is babbling about the book because if she weren’t, she’d realize I’m making a complete fool of myself.
I’ve seen naked women before!
I’ve had plenty of sex!
Good sex with hot women, and sure, it’s been a couple months, but I’ve been busy, and I’m good at taking care of my needs in the shower, with my hand, while picturing this very woman with her small hands wrapped around me and her wet hair tickling my chest. I jerk myself away from those thoughts as I realize Taylor is kneeling in her towel, flipping through the book.
“Don’t worry about it,” I insist, tone hard and clear.
She’s mumbling under her breath. “Borrowed it without asking…ruined it…let me just see if I can dry it out and…”
She’s acting like I’m about to attack her for ruining my book. Is she really so scared of me?
I reach down and grab her bicep, easily lifting her up to her feet. Her skin is wet and warm. She keeps the towel closed with one hand and her big brown eyes find mine. She looks doe-eyed and innocent.
“The book doesn’t matter.”
“But you already hate me.”
I don’t refute that.
Right now, I hate what she’s doing to me. I hate how I’m reacting to her. There’s a lot of hate tangling with lust and it’s hard to separate one feeling from another. Maybe I do hate her. Or maybe it’s the exact opposite.
“I’ll buy you a new one,” she insists, nodding along with the idea. “Yes, that’s what I’ll do.”
I don’t point out that we’re about three hours from the nearest bookstore and I don’t think Amazon ships to cabins in the middle of the woods.
Her attention falls to my hand on her arm and I should drop it, but I don’t. Instead, my gaze moves over her, up from her bare feet and shapely calves right to the point where her white towel cuts across her bare thighs. A drop of water runs down them and I’m seconds from doing something very bad.
“You look deeply disapproving right now,” she says, actually sounding amused. “Like everything about me offends you.”
I try to relax my features, but it’s no use.
“Did you stay here all weekend?”
There’s a long pause before she replies diplomatically, “Will I get in trouble if I say yes?”
“I don’t know.”
Her eyes are suddenly lit with an inner twinkle of mischief. “Then…I don’t know.”
Paired with her long dark lashes and high cheekbones, her teasing words make it impossible to suppress the lazy smile spreading across my lips.
Her gaze catches there, and that’s the moment I step away and release her arm. I know what it looks like when a woman wants a man, and Taylor and I are not here in this cabin for that reason.
The warring emotions inside of me yank my heart in different directions as I head for the door.
“Let me know when you’re dressed,” I say gruffly, tugging a hand through my hair and slamming the door open harder than necessary. It bangs against the side of the cabin, the sound too loud and too sharp, making it look as if I can’t control my temper. I’ve never had an issue until now.
I sit on the top stair and train my eyes on the forest, cooling off, thinking of my grandma and baseball. When that doesn’t work, I think of my grandma playing baseball, and when Taylor walks out a few minutes later, I don’t even feel the effect she has on me. Not at all. Dressed in loose jeans and a t-shirt, she’s still barefoot. I’m looking at her pink-polished toes when she speaks up.
