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Torch's eyes darken.

Even better.

“You were saying?” I ask.

He exhales.

“Fuck me.”

“Eventually, I hope.”

His head tips back.

“Jesus Christ, woman.”

I grin.

That's what he gets for making me nervous.

I step into the shower before I can lose my courage.

Warm water spills over my shoulders, and Torch catches my hand to steady me.

For a moment, I simply look at him.

Holy hell.

He's six feet three inches of broad chest, powerful arms, dark tattoos, and the sort of body that makes a woman question whether her standards have been embarrassingly low.

The silver at his temples should make him look distinguished.

Instead, it makes him look like somebody my mother would've warned me about.

Several times.

Then my gaze drops lower.

Oh.

His cock is big and hard, and there's absolutely no mistaking how much he wants me.

I've never been this close to a naked man before, and while I'm hardly ignorant of the male anatomy, seeing Torch like this is a considerably different experience from anything I've imagined.

I drag my eyes back up to his face.

Too late.

He's caught me staring.

That wicked grin appears.

“Something wrong, sweetheart?”

“I'm reconsidering the wisdom of entering this shower.”

“Little late for that.”

“Your confidence is becoming unbearable.”