Page 28 of Sterling Stone

Realizing I don’t have time to process my questions or calculate answers, I shut off the shower, slide aside the curtain and reach for a towel.

And the bathroom door flings open.

A shocked expression strikes the face of one beautiful woman.

Lips in a pretty little O. Eyes wide and sterling bright. Hand on the doorknob.

Taxi doesn’t move.

Instead, I do, taking my time to swipe the towel underneath my chin and down my chest, letting it drape in front of where I’m long and hard, practically pointed at her. Every slow movement is deliberate. She shouldn’t be in here, and that’s exactly why I don’t cover myself.

My house. My bathroom.

My body wants her, yes, but my head is fully aware, fully in control.

She’s in my home, watching me like she owns the show, and I let her. I’m throwing down the gauntlet, daring her to react, letting the tension build with every inch of my measured moves.

Down my chest.

Over my abs.

The challenge hangs heavy in the air.

And neither of us speaks.

When I get to my dick, using the towel to keep me covered, but still rubbing it around the appendage, she finally turns her head.

“Lost, little girl?” I tease.

With her hand still on the doorknob, her cheek aimed in my direction, I watch the subtle roll of her throat as she swallows. “I needed the bathroom. Vale sent me up here.”

Clearly, this space is occupied, but I don’t want her to leave yet.

“We need to talk,” I state instead.

Noise in the hallway causes her to glance back in my direction. Hastily, she steps forward, shutting the door behind her, locking us both in the narrow, steam-filled bathroom.

I step out of the tub, keeping the towel in front of me, letting my ass hang out as we stare at one another.

“What am I missing here, Taxi?” I lower my voice, trying to keep it steady, like I’m interviewing a potential suspect or a skittish victim.

She crosses her arms, glances at my waist, and then turns her head toward the mirror over the sink. From her angle, she can see my ass in the reflection.

I allow her to check me out a second longer, before discreetly working as best I can to wrap the towel around my waist and securing it just above my hips. I swipe a hand through my hair, making it stand up at all angles.

And all the while Taxi watches me through the mirror. Her chest slowly lifts and lowers, like she’s trying to control her breathing. Her nostrils even flare once. She swallows again and licks her lips.

Dammit, I want to press her against the sink and kiss her senseless. Jar her memory because I’m certain she felt something when we kissed that night. When she kissed me back.

Stepping closer to her, I risk cupping her jaw and making her eyes meet mine. “Taxi, talk to me.”

“You played me,” she says, loud and sharp and tugging her face back so I’ll drop my hand.

“What? No,” I state almost as loud, fisting my hands at my sides.

“I saw you.”

“Saw me?” I have no idea what she’s talking about.