Sam had one of those huge modern showers with a showerhead that looked as if it would release a sinful amount of water that was like a warm massage, a huge, square bronze showerhead that would ease the kinks from her sore muscles, light-years away from the trickle that came from her grandmother’s sixties-era shower that was an exact replica of the one inPsycho, where Janet Leigh was hacked to death.
She pulled away and looked up at him. From this vantage point, he was all clenched jaws and high cheekbones, heavy five-o’clock shadow and dark, piercing eyes.
“Shower,” she decided. “Followed immediately by food. I’m really hungry.”
“Roger that,” he said calmly, and swung her up in his arms.
“Sam!” Nicole scrambled to hold on to his shoulders. “I can walk!”
“Yeah,” he rumbled. “I know you can. I, ah, I just—” his jaw muscles bunched and he looked away for a second, breathed deeply, turned back. “I really need to be touching you right now, and this works for me.”
He stopped on the threshold of his huge bathroom, bending his head toward hers until their foreheads touched. “I was scared shitless back there,” he confessed.
“Yeah.” She huffed out her breath in a little half laugh, tightening her arms around his neck. “Ditto. Did I mention how grateful I am you picked my lock?”
That earned her a small smile. “You did mention it, a couple of times, in fact. Gratitude’s an interesting concept. Just how grateful are we talking about here?”
She smiled back. “Major, major gratitude. Name-your-price grateful.”
He moved sideways through the door with her in his arms so he wouldn’t jostle her against the doorjamb. Once inside, he put her down by gently removing the arm under her knees, holding her steady as she slid down his body. “If I can name my price, make me a happy man and promise me you won’t ever get into trouble like that again.”
“I promise,” she said fervently, etching a hugeXover her left breast.
She was steady on her feet, but she hung on to his arms just the same. He seemed to be happy touching her and man, it was reciprocal. Touching him made her feel a whole lot better. Being close to that big body simply radiating heat was enough to dissipate the chill of fear and danger.
With Sam right in front of her, hands on her waist, looking at her as if he wanted to eat her alive, cold and danger and fear were all far, far away.
Head bent to her, a serious frown between his eyebrows, as if he were solving the most difficult calculus equation in the world, he started carefully unbuttoning her blouse. The buttons were small and though his hands were huge, they were deft. In a moment, her blouse hung open.
Nicole stood quietly, making no move whatsoever. Whatever he wanted from her, she wanted to give it to him.
He lifted his hands to her shoulders. The light linen shirt billowed to the floor. A second later, her bra followed.
She saw him wince, touch her shoulder and back lightly. “That’s going to be a spectacular bruise tomorrow. Does it hurt?”
It did, but not so much that she wanted him to stop touching her. “A little sore,” she admitted. “It’s okay.”
He shook his head briefly, as if to sayno, it’s not okay, then reached for the zipper of her pants. He pulled them down gently, together with her panties. He knelt, lifting one foot by the ankle, then the other, taking off her sandals. “Brace yourself on my shoulder.”
In a moment, sandals, pants and panties were on the bathroom floor. Sam rose slowly. His big hands had encircled her ankle. As he rose slowly, his open hands ran along her ankle, shin, knee, thigh. The skin of his hands was rough. By the time his big hands cupped her hip, the hairs of her forearms were standing up.
Suddenly, Sam froze, making a low, shocked sound. He even stopped breathing for a moment, eyes fixed on her hips.
“What?”
“My God,” he whispered. “Idid this.”
Nicole craned her neck to see. There were four faint bruises on her hips, both sides. She wouldn’t have understood where they came from if his big hands weren’t touching her. The bruises matched precisely with his fingertips.
A sudden flush raced through her body, head to toe. She remembered exactly how she’d gotten those bruises. Sam had held her hips tightly as he rammed into her the last time they made love, when he’d lost control, just a little. She’d been so excited she hadn’t even felt the grip of his hands.
She was excited now, completely naked in the bathroom. The memory of their night together, his big body so close to hers, made heat blossom in her, made her bones loosen, started drawing her into a spiral of desire.
Nicole lifted her face for a kiss, then stopped, frowning when he didn’t meet her halfway. What was this? He didn’t want to kiss her? Since when?
Sam was staring at her hips, at the small bruises which were nothing in comparison to what was going to be a real doozy on her back tomorrow morning.
He looked absolutely horrified.
