Her eyes held his. “You’re cold too. From the ride. Stay.”
His breath hitched. “Jen?—”
“Please. Take the bath with me. If you want to.”
He stood there, muscles locked, trying to figure out what she was asking for. What she needed. What he could give without taking too much.
“If I want to?—”
The truth he’d been avoiding slammed into him.
This wasn’t hunger. It was something far more dangerous.
“You sure?” He searched her face for doubt but only read certainty.
“Please.”
She closed her eyes, giving him privacy the way he’d given her.
Wyatt stripped. Sweater first, then pants, the sound of fabric hitting the floor loud in the quiet room. Steam wrapped around him, warm and close, but he felt exposed anyway—bare in a way that had nothing to do with skin.
He checked his thigh—the waterproof dressing keeping the stitches dry—then stepped into the bath behind her.
The tub was deep. When he settled back, the water rose and sloshed against the sides, heat pressing in around them. His legs bracketed hers.
She was rightthere.
“Lean back,” he said, voice hushed.
Her spine met his chest. Warm skin. Solid weight.
A jolt of heat slammed through him.
His body reacted instantly.
Fuck.
He locked it down. Hard. He closed his eyes and concentrated on keeping perfectly still. On anything except the fact that she was naked and pressed against him, and every nerve ending he had was screaming at him to?—
No.
Her breathing was even and slow. She’d let go completely. He drew a careful breath and released it, resting his arms on the porcelain edge on either side of her.
She fit against him too easily. Her head near his shoulder. Her legs aligned with his under the water. Nothing between them but heat and bubbles and the thin, fraying line of his restraint.
Don’t rush this.
“I could wash your hair.”
She sighed, the sound small and tired. “I’d love that.”
She shifted forward to give him room. Water sluiced down her back, and his thighs tensed as her weight moved, settled again. He remained motionless for reasons that had nothing to do with the water.
“Lean your head back.”
Her throat tilted toward him, her eyes closed.
Steady hands. Breathe. Don’t ruin this by wanting too much.
