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Rocco came back out and scooped her up again, as if she weighed no more than a bag of sugar, and within seconds she was gasping on wobbly legs under a powerfully warm spray. Rocco was soaping his hands and running them all over her body, washing her, and Gracie gave up trying to rationalise this and stood silently while Rocco thoroughly soaped her whole body.
When his hand slipped between her legs she widened slumberous eyes and her breath hitched. He was so virile and gorgeous, hair plastered to his skull, water running in rivulets down his face and over hard chest muscles. And those wicked long fingers were stroking between her legs, making her moan softly.
With a rueful smile Rocco took his hand away and shook his head. ‘I think you need a break before we indulge again.’
Again. Gracie grew hot just thinking of all that passionate intensity again. She didn’t know if she could cope.
Rocco was pouring shampoo into his hand and turning her around so that he could wash her hair. She was glad not to be the focus of that black gaze for a moment.
After a few seconds she heard him say behind her, ‘You weren’t a virgin?’
Gracie grew tense. She shook her head and said huskily, ‘No. I’ve had sex before …’
Familiar pain gripped her when she thought of the boy she’d trusted enough to sleep with her at her last foster home. She’d been just eighteen, so young and vulnerable. Steven had been in jail and she’d been desperately lonely. But as soon as he’d slept with her he’d dumped her, telling her that no one wanted to go out with a slag.
He’d spread the word among their peers and Gracie had been branded an easy lay, which had been so far from the truth that she hadn’t trusted anyone since then. She’d escaped to college soon after, and had kept herself to herself.
Yet within days of meeting Rocco de Marco she was allowing him to seduce her on a kitchen table as if she’d done it all her life.
‘But it’s been a while?’
His voice cut off her tumultuous thoughts. Gracie was mortified. Had it been that obvious? She nodded her head quickly. Rocco stepped up close behind her then, and she went properly weak at the knees feeling that powerfully muscular body along the length of hers, his recovered erection between them. She fought not to move her hips against him as wantonly as she wanted to, awfully conscious of her vulnerability.
His arms came under her arms and his hands cupped her soapy breasts, trapping her nipples. His head came down and he said softly, ‘You were so tight around me. I liked it.’
Gracie’s feeling of vulnerability dissolved when she remembered how he’d felt when he’d thrust into her that first moment. She turned in his arms and looked up shyly. ‘I liked it too …’
He just looked at her for a long moment, while the water beat down around them, and then he moved her so that she stood under the spray, to rinse all the shampoo and soap from her hair and body. His touch was no longer seductive, it was brisk.
Then he flipped off the shower and grabbed two towels, enveloping her in one. He handed her out of the shower first, and then stepped out too. It was as if a cold wind had sprung up between them and Gracie felt on edge. Had she said something wrong? Been too easy? How could she explain to him that it felt as if on some level she’d known him for ever—as if her body knew exactly how to be with him? How to pleasure him? That she wasn’t like this normally?
She’d had no idea desire could consume her like a forest fire raging through dry wood. She watched as he turned away from her to rub himself dry roughly. Even now her eyes couldn’t help devouring him, lingering on the way his muscles bunched and stretched.
Hesitantly she forced herself to ask, ‘Are you … is everything okay?’
His hands stopped in their movement. And then he said gruffly, without looking at her, ‘Why wouldn’t it be?’
He sounded so remote and harsh that Gracie took a step back, clutching the towel to her. ‘If you regret what just happened—’
He whirled around fast and snaked the towel around his hips. He glared at her. ‘Why on earth would I regret it? It’s the best sex I’ve ever had.’
Gracie blanched and then felt hot. His use of the word sex scored at her insides like a knife. ‘Well, you don’t have to sound so angry about it. It doesn’t have to happen again.’
If anything that made him look even fiercer. He stepped close to her, jaw tight. ‘That was not a one-off. It will be happening again, and it’ll keep happening until we burn ourselves free of this insanity.’
Familiar fire rose within Gracie at his temper and his autocratic tone. She straightened her shoulders. ‘Well, for your information, I think I’ve had enough. I don’t need to burn myself free of anything. This was a really bad idea.’
Gracie grabbed the towel around her and went to step around Rocco to leave the bathroom, but he halted her progress with his hands on her shoulders. She glared at him as fiercely as he was glaring at her. The air crackled around them.
‘Where do you think you’re going?’
Gracie tossed her head, ‘Oh, so now I’m a prisoner of this room? Not just your apartment?’
‘Damn it, woman,’ Rocco growled, and hauled her close. Before she knew what was happening he was kissing her, forcing her head back, mouth crushing hers. Defiant to the end she kept her mouth closed and stayed stiff. Until she started to feel dizzy and had to breathe in.
Rocco seized his moment and his tongue invaded her mouth with shockingly hot intimacy. He pulled her hips into his at the same time and she could feel the resurgence of his desire. Suddenly she was back in that mad vortex, with need clawing through her worse than before. Because now she’d tasted Rocco, felt the full force of him … and of course she couldn’t turn her back on this any more than he could. Her bones turned to liquid and her tongue duelled with his, their mouths tight together as if in danger of being ripped apart at any moment.
