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He wandered over to the basket of fancy soaps and bottles of body wash she had on the wraparound shelf in the shower. “You use all this stuff?” he asked, sorting through her collection.
“Most of it. Some only on special occasions.” She loaded up her toothbrush and turned on the water. If he wouldn’t leave, she’d try to be as discreet as possible.
Once she’d finished, she put away the toothpaste and sighed as he continued to pick through her belongings. It would’ve been almost cute, if she didn’t feel completely grungy and incapable of dealing with company. Though he technically wasn’t, because she lived with him, and he already knew parts of her pretty damn well.
She flushed and glanced away. Enough thoughts about that.
“Which are for special occasions?”
“The honeysuckle ones.”
“Why?”
“They’re really expensive. I buy a new product in the line whenever I’m celebrating something big. Graduation from my doctoral program, when I moved here, my new job at the sanctuary. They commemorate big changes in my life.”
“Kind of like my torque wrenches.” He shot her a grin over his shoulder and set down the pink poufy sponge he’d been toying with. “Although a good month financially is sometimes a big enough reason for me to get one. The guys go wild for them at the shop and hell, why not? What good is money if you never live a little?”
He made an excellent point. What good was anything if you didn’t enjoy life? If you didn’t say to hell with it every once in a while and go for something crazy and wild because you could?
Because it felt so damn right?
“Speaking of the guys at the shop, shouldn’t you be at work right now instead of babysitting me?”
“One of the perks of being the boss. I can be a little late now and then. Or a lot late,” he added meaningfully.
She swallowed and faced the mirror. Lovely. She still had to deal with the hornet’s nest on her head. She pulled the elastic out of her hair and let it fall around her shoulders. Then she yanked her brush out of the basket on the vanity and tackled the worst of the snarls.
“It’s hopeless,” she muttered.
“Hardly.” He came up behind her. “Give me the brush.”
> “Why?” Her pulse galloped like a runaway horse. “So you can paddle my ass?”
“Now there’s a thought. No, so I can take care of this for you.”
“I’m going to shower soon. You really don’t have to bother.“
“It’s easier to wash your hair if it’s untangled, right?” he asked, his voice oozing patience.
“Yeah, I suppose.” She handed over her brush, figuring he’d batter her until she gave in anyway. He dragged the bristles through her hair, roughly at first. Her wince caused him to gentle his strokes. Soon he was brushing the full length in long, even glides, caressing her scalp with each movement.
Her breath trembled out from between her parted lips, and she closed her eyes, somehow embarrassed by how intimate this looked reflected in the glass. If he’d been kneeling before her with his mouth between her legs, she wouldn’t have shied away from watching him. But his hot expression as he pleasured her this way drove the intensity level between them up by miles.
“This is fine.” She cleared her throat and shifted to look at him, maintaining eye contact even when she wanted to retreat and put a little distance between them. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” He wound a strand around his finger, pulling lightly. “I bet you want that shower.”
“Yeah.”
“I’m sure this is my cue to leave.”
In lieu of an answer, she reached for the gaping open vee of her nightgown. Despite its lack of style, she’d kept it for nights she wanted comfort. Nights she spent alone, or in bed with a man who eventually grew to view her as not much more provocative than the furniture. Pete had certainly never looked at her like this, his stare following her fingers as if he couldn’t wait to see what she revealed.
“I’d really rather you stay,” she murmured.
Chapter Four
As Brad stepped forward, Sara shook her head, wanting to make sure he understood what she was offering. “But I’m still—”
