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“I don’t need any help showering.” The panicked sound of her own voice shocked her.
He moved into the bathroom. “Then I want to sleep with you, Raven. Just sleep. I want to hold you close and feel you breathing against me.” He set her on her feet, his hands cupping her face, lifting it until he could stare down at her intently. “I’m not going to let you go tonight.”
She shivered. She tried not to, but she couldn’t help it. She had known he was bossy, dominant, a man who knew what he wanted and how to get it. She just hadn’t expected that phenomenal will of his to turn on her in quite this manner.
“You forget, I’ve run for a reason.” Her hands gripped his wrists as she stared up at him.
“We’ll break each other’s hearts, Reno.”
She could see the exhaustion marking his face, clearer now than it had been before. A haunting hunger filled his gaze, and Raven knew in the bottom of her soul that she wasn’t going to deny him. For now … for this moment … he needed her. Surely, for the short amount of time he would be here, she could protect her heart. Couldn’t she?
“This is a good idea, Raven.” He lowered his head, his lips whispering over hers. The kiss was soothing, calming. Emotions raged just beneath it, subtle, but intense. Emotions she refused to delve into.
“One of these days, your bossiness is going to get you into trouble,” she warned him as he pulled back, a small smile playing about his passion-swollen lips as he moved away from her to adjust the water in the shower.
She could do it. She took a deep, fortifying breath. It was too late to turn back now, anyway. She could have tonight, enjoy his touch, his laughter, the qualities that made him so very unique to her. And when he left, she could let him go without the tears or the rage or the fear. She was strong enough. She didn’t have to love him.
“Come on, baby.” He stepped into the shower, his hand catching her wrist as he pulled her in after him.
“Do you ever ask for anything?” she asked as he sheltered her from the spray and began soaping a washrag.
His smile flashed, filled with amusement and warmth.
“When I have to.”
Raven frowned at that.
“All of you macho SEAL-types are so damned bossy. Reminds me why I steered clear of them.”
Her brother Clint was a SEAL; most of her friends’ brothers were in one part of the armed forces or another. They were all bossy, domineering men who forged their own paths, whether in life or in love. They left, and sometimes they never returned.
“You weren’t steering clear of me, Raven,” he told her then, his hands incredibly gentle as he pressed the washcloth to her chest and began to wash her. “I just let you think you were.”
She snorted mockingly. She would argue, but that washcloth felt so good, rasping over her flesh, washing away her thoughts as easily as it did the sweat from her body.
She tilted her head back, allowing him to have his way. She had fantasized about this too much, and unfortunately, he was better than the dreams had ever been.
“You should be falling on your feet,” she whispered, the sound of her voice punctuated with a gasp as the cloth moved between her thighs, cleaning her slowly.
“Maybe,” he growled, “I should rest.”
He knelt in front of her, spreading her legs as he lifted one, propping it on the small shelf at the side as the washrag moved over the bare flesh of her pussy.
“Damn, Raven. Do you know how pretty you are? Silky and soft, and so responsive to my touch.” He shifted, allowing the spray to rinse her as he dropped the cloth, using his hands to help dispel the suds there.
Arousal built within her quickly. She knew what he was going to do and she didn’t know if she could bear it.
His fingers moved over the narrow slit, parting her swollen flesh as she fought to get her bearings, to breathe. If she could just breathe, she could maintain her control.
“I’ve dreamed of tasting you…”
Oh God.
“Fucking you with my tongue, sucking that pretty little clit into my mouth…”
She felt her juices gathering, weeping with sensual abandon from her sensitive cunt as her head rolled against the wall of the shower. The explicit, diabolical words made her weak, made her long for him to do it with every fiber of her being.
Her hands braced against the wall and the shower door. She couldn’t touch him. If she touched him, she would beg, plead for him.
