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She hits my hand away. “We are not having sex. Shut off the damn water. And get out!”
I reach behind me and twist the taps shut. “You know, I still don’t follow what any of this has to do with the trio.”
“They’ve got their sights on us.” She drags her hands over her hair, squeezing out the water. “Like I’ve been sitting around waiting for your return.”
“Have you?”
Her face twists into a scowl. “No.” She yanks back the curtain and steps out of the tub.
“I’m mildly disappointed.”
I step out too. Our hands land on the towel rack at the same time. Heat sizzles up my arm.
Her gaze snaps to me. I see heat there. She can’t hide her desire. As much as she’s trying to. I get it. I hurt her. I was young and stupid with dreams to ride.
“Not as disappointed as me to find Johnny Creed wasn’t the sex god all the girls claimed.” Her fingers curl around the terry cloth material, and she jerks it off the metal rod.
“Ouch.”
While she fastens the towel around her and wiggles out of the dress, I’m left with a dry towel hardly big enough to cover my ass.
“You were amazing, Bex.”
She stops at the door. Her hand stills on the knob. Her dress drips from the arm it’s draped over. And my mouth craves to trail down the back of her silky neck.
“It’s Bexley.” She whips open the door. Corky jumps to all four. A low, pitted growl bulldozes through his body.
Bexley gasps.
The dog leaps.
***
BEXLEY
––––––––
ISCREAM AND expectto be torn to shreds. The towel stripped off my body. Exposed and vulnerable to a man who broke my heart.
Why does this dog hate me?
“Corky, down,” Johnny’s deep voice booms behind me.
Gone is the teasing.
Gone is the joking.
He barrels in front of me, putting himself between the stupid dog and me. His protective arm presses against my barely covered breasts.
He points an authoritative finger at the dog.
Corky whines and curls up on the floor. “Downstairs. Go. Get.” He waves toward the stairs. Corky obediently slinks away.
Johnny turns to me. His towel is the size of a mini skirt gone wrong. “You alright?” His rum-colored eyes burn into my soul. Concerned. Caring. I just wasn’t prepared for all these emotions.
I squeeze my fingers on the top edge of my towel. “Yes.” The word comes out snarky. I instantly feel guilty. “Thank you.”
Johnny smirks. Not anI’m-hitting-on-you smirk, but his genuinely amused smirk. “You’re welcome.”
