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“Ash is a good name for you,” my words barely a whisper. His fingers touch my chin, and he tilts my head back so he can watch my lips. “Whenever I’m near you, I feel like I’m burning up from the inside out . . . only to be left as ashes.”
He doesn’t say anything, but his eyes darken and drink me in. I suck in a breath of air reminding myself to breathe.
Pulling on my arm, he slips his hand in mine as he walks us past the living room, down the hall, through his bedroom, and into the bathroom.
Dropping my hand, he reaches into the shower and turns the water on. There are two shower heads, and steam quickly floats across the ceiling, making us warmer than we already are.
Facing me, he reaches behind his head and grabs his t-shirt, pulling it off. Golden skin . . . lots of it. Right in front of me. My heart rate picks up.
His eyes drop to the front of my shirt, and he skims his fingers across my breasts and over the band name. “I really like you wearing this, but I’m gonna like it better on the floor.” Gently, he grabs the hem and drags it up my body and off. Stepping closer, he reaches around to find the zipper of the skirt, and pulls it down. The skirt drops, leaving me in my bra and panties.
“You are so beautiful.” His eyes travel over every inch of me and my body flushes at his appreciation.
Reaching for his pants, my fingertips slide under the waistband as I pop the buttons of the fly. Grabbing the denim on his slim hips, I pull and they slide down his legs. He kicks them off, leaving him in a pair of tight, black boxer briefs.
He’s breathing hard, I’m breathing hard, and not one part of me is nervous about what’s about to happen. In fact, I’m pretty sure if something doesn’t happen soon, I’m going to combust.
Stepping up on my tiptoes, I grab him by the back of the neck, and that’s all the invitation he needs. His mouth smashes down on mine and the few pieces of clothing we were wearing instantly disappear.
His hands run up and down and over every part of me, feeling me, memorizing me, branding me, and I do the same to him. Hard lines, lots of muscle, and incredibly delicious, hot skin. Tangling my fingers in his hair, his fingertips pull my hips into his, and I moan at the sensation of his excitement pressed into my stomach. I’m doing this to him, me, and I want more. My mouth falls to his neck, and salt from the sweat reminds me why we’re in here in the first place.
Pulling away from him, he groans in protest.
“No.” He tightens his hold on me and I giggle.
I reach for the shower door, and he reluctantly lets me go, his hair falling over his forehead and blue eyes tracking my every move.
“You’ll feel better once you’re clean,” I grin at him.
“I’ll feel better once I’m buried deep inside of you,” he throws back at me.
Oh my.
His words cause an instant visceral reaction and my eyes drop to take him and his impeccable body in. He chuckles and pushes me into the shower.
He steps under one shower head, I step to the other, and both of us stare as we wash away all evidence of tonight’s show.
How did I get so lucky to be here, with him, right now? Tears burn my eyes and I close them to hide the emotion. Tilting my head back, the warm water runs over me and washes away the vulnerability. Now is not the time or place for this.
Catching me by surprise, Ash’s hands slide over my head, under my chin, and gently, he caresses my throat before wrapping them loosely around the back of my neck and settling them on the tops of my shoulders.
My eyes fly open. He’s watching and waiting for my reaction, but my skin burns for him with an inexplicable craze. I know he’s worried about me slipping from now to then, but he doesn’t need to. I’m here, and I want him. All of him.
With steam whirling around us, and the scent of soap lingering in the air, I look up at him through my wet eyelashes and swallow.
“Ash.”
His eyebrows raise just a little in question and he licks his lips.
“More. Lots more. Touch me. Everywhere. I don’t just want it, I need it.” My words are throaty, laced with a longing that’s just for him, and he squeezes my shoulders in response.
Dropping his eyes, he follows his hands as they slide with the water and move over my collar bones, and down to cup my breasts. His thumbs swipe back and forth, causing every muscle in my stomach to constrict. From there, they glide over my ribcage, and onto my hips. One settles on my outer thigh, and the other travels to explore the more intimate parts of me.
My toes curl into the water pooling at our feet in an attempt to grip the travertine. It’s been so long since anyone has touched me, and it feels so good to be touched by him.
Him.
Only him.
