By the time they reached the bathroom, their hearts beat with anticipation, and their pheromones kept the pace. With a mutual, giddy urgency, she grasped his belt with eager fingers, working at the stubborn clasp, and he obliged by stepping closer, his hands tracing the line of her shoulders before tugging at the hem of her shirt.
Their skin radiated heat as they strived to keep their actions slow and sensuous. She peeled his shirt upward, exposing the constellation of freckles across his chest, and she pressed her lips, open and awed, to the sharp rise of his collarbone.
Kendra started taking off his clothes, which made him smile. Once she removed his jeans and shirt, she kissed his sculpted pecs.
“You’re so beautiful,” Kendra whispered, the words tumbling out before she could temper them.
He smiled crookedly, as if embarrassed by the compliment, but he caught her gaze with seriousness that made her feel raw and needy. “You are beautiful.”
He tugged her shirt upward with a gentle insistence, careful not to tangle it in her hair. Then he reached behind her, chest to chest, while he unfastened her bra. Once he pulled it off, they were bare-chested together, skin illuminated by the bright lights in the bathroom. He ran his thumb along her sternum, following the rapid pulse, and she realized she was holding her breath.
She arched into his touch as he slid her jeans over her hips, the zipper catching briefly on the denim before yielding. She shivered, and goosebumps prickled on her arms.
He ran his hands up her sides, slow and exploratory, as if memorizing every bit of her skin.
She traced her fingers along the sharp jut of his hipbone, marveling at the contrast of softness and tension in his body. He shuddered at her touch as she pulled down his boxer briefs, and in that moment, she felt in charge.
Then he pulled off her bikini panties before the exploration could continue.
She reached into the shower and turned on the water. They moved into the shower, closed the glass door, and ran the water all over each other’s bodies. Then they got some of her body wash—a nice, fragrant vanilla.
Kendra twisted her fingers into his hair, tugging gently, and he moaned softly against her lips. She felt her own body responding, heat pooling in her belly, her skin hypersensitive to even the brush of his eyelashes against her cheek.
He paused, forehead resting against hers, and Kendra thought she caught a glimmer of gratitude in his eyes. She kissed him again, softer this time, reassuring, before shampooing each other’s hair. They laughed into each other’s mouths, the movement sweetly human, and she relished every second.
She was glad to see his bear-bite wounds had healed considerably, no longer needing bandages. She kissed his shoulder below one of the wounds, and he took her face in his hands and kissed her mouth long and hard.
She rinsed him off with the showerhead, and then he did the same for her. Then she turned off the water, and they grabbed towels off the bar outside the walk-in shower.
She figured she would just dry herself, more expedient that way, but he had already started to towel her dry, taking care of her, and she wanted to laugh. She began drying him off, then hung the towels on the bar to dry, and he followed her into the bedroom.
He wrapped his arms around her, and they toppled across the king-size mattress, tumbling in a dizzying clutch that felt less like a fall and more like a dive into a silky set of sheets on an ultra-soft mattress. They landed together, rolling so that neither quite knew who was pinning the other. He wrapped his arms around her in a tangle of legs and arms and bodies and lips pressed against each other’s.
She could feel the tension thrumming through both of them, a shared ache that would not be sated by anything less than complete surrender.
Grayson pressed his face to Kendra’s hair, breathed in the humid trace of sweat and floral shampoo, and felt her heartbeat where their chests touched.
He shifted, propped himself on one elbow, and brushed her hair from her forehead with the back of his hand. She looked at him, lips parted, eyes half-lidded and glassy with anticipation.
For an instant, he hovered, memorizing the shape of her face in the hush before he closed the distance between them. She reached for him, nails biting at his hip, and the touch sent him over, into her, the two of them pressed together so closely it was impossible to tell where he ended, and she began.
They kissed each other’s lips, then drifted lower, finding new places to taste and bite. Her laughter rose and died on his tongue. She pulled him closer, legs snaring his, until their bodies formed a seamless knot of want and heat and momentum, and every movement was as inevitable as their hearts beating.
He could feel her smile against his shoulder, feel it bloom into something wilder, and then she rolled them over so she was above him, her hair trailing a curtain around their faces. She was radiant, flushed, and alive and trembling, and he wanted her so badly he could barely breathe.
He slipped his hand down her hip and moved over her tummy until he reached her soft curly hairs. Then he began to stroke her between the legs, dipping inside her to moisten his finger and give her a thrill. He began to stroke her clit again, until she was arching against his fingers, trying to capture the wickedly wonderful moment. And he aimed to give it to her.
When she cried out with climax, looking satiated and pleased, he moved to join her. “Love you.”
“Oh, I love you too, Grayson.” And she sounded as joyful as he was feeling that way.
And then he pushed inside her and began to thrust between her legs. He was so glad he’d met her, though not in a usual manner, but as a bounty hunter, it seemed appropriate.
She was stroking his back with her eager fingers, kissing his shoulder, neck, and he captured her mouth and kissed her deeply.
As soon as he came, he just hung on to her, loving this with her.
“Hmm,” she said, “you are so virile and such a sexy lover.”
