Chapter 6
The first thing Lexi did when she got home was hop into the shower. She always left her mother’s house smelling like an ashtray, and she hated it. Standing under the hot spray, she scrubbed her skin and vigorously shampooed her hair until she was squeaky clean.
When she emerged from the shower, she slipped on a pair of clean underwear and grabbed her blow-dryer. She’d just finished drying her hair when she was startled by a knock on the bathroom door.
“Lex,” called a deep, masculine voice.
She whirled around, staring at the closed door. “Quentin?”
He chuckled. “Unless you’ve got a bunch of other guys running around with a spare key to your house.” He paused. “You don’t, do you?”
“I don’t know.” A smile tipped one corner of her mouth. “I can’t remember.”
Another pause. “That’s not funny, Lex.”
She laughed, secretly relieved that she always closed the bathroom door to keep steam trapped inside the room. The thought of Quentin spying on her while she took a shower brought a hot, embarrassed flush to her body. Not that he’d ever invade her privacy like that, of course. She’d gotten undressed in the same room with him many times, and he’d always kept his back turned like a perfect gentleman. But then again, he saw more than enough pairs of breasts on a regular basis. He didn’t have to resort to sneaking a peek at his best friend’s.
“What’re you doing here, anyway?” Lexi called through the door as she returned her blow-dryer to the linen cabinet and removed a jar of mango body butter. “Shouldn’t you be at the office burning the midnight oil in preparation for the trial?”
“Been doing that for the past five months,” Quentin answered. “I need a break.”
“Slacker,” she teased.
He chuckled softly. “I just came from the restaurant.”
Lexi didn’t have to ask which restaurant. Not a week went by without one or both of them eating at Wolf’s Soul. It was their favorite hangout, and the food was second to none.
“How long have you been here?”
“Not long. I rang the doorbell once or twice. When you didn’t answer, I figured you were in the bathroom. So I just let myself in.”
“No problem, sweetie.” She began smoothing on the rich, scented body butter. First one arm, and then the other.
“You almost finished in there?”
“Almost. Just putting on some cream.”
“Oh.” Quentin’s voice sounded strange, rough. “You’re not, ah, dressed yet?”
“Not quite.” She hesitated. “I had to blow-dry my hair. The heat makes me sweat, so I prefer to get dressed afterward.” She grimaced, wondering why she’d volunteered so much information.
Quentin said nothing.
Bracing one foot on the edge of the bathtub, Lexi spread the fragrant cream over her thigh. She massaged it into her skin, working downward to her feet before moving to the other leg.
“I brought you something to eat,” Quentin told her in that strangely thick tone.
She smiled. “Really? That was very thoughtful of you.”
“I figured you probably hadn’t eaten dinner yet.”
“You figured correctly. As usual.” Was she imagining things, or had his voice gotten closer to the door?
She swallowed, licking her lips. Staring at herself in the mirror, she began rubbing the mango butter over her belly. Her muscles quivered, tightened. She paused, then slowly slid her hands up to her breasts. An odd, tingling awareness rippled over her skin.
Without warning, her mind conjured an image of the doorknob being turned. A moment later Quentin stood in the doorway, his lids at half mast over smoldering hazel eyes. Their gazes locked in the mirror.
Without a word he started toward her, a slow, stealthy advance that made her pulse hammer.
