How in the hell could he want a woman so badly and at the same time feel the urge to shake her until her teeth rattled?
Usually he appreciated the luxury of triple showerheads. Tonight, the marble enclosure made him feel isolated and alone. That simple realization shook him. Since when did he need a woman? For sex, sure. He understood that drive. But the burning in his gut was about more than getting laid. He thought he and Beth had made progress toward becoming friends. Apparently, he was wrong.
He was so wound up in his righteous indignation that he didn’t notice at first when the glass door opened.
“Need some company?”
He whirled around so fast his feet nearly slid out from under him. That would have topped it all. Ending up ass-first, naked and wet at her feet.
“Beth....” He eased off on the hot water. Steam made it difficult for him to see, and he definitely didn’t want to miss a moment. “What are you doing here?”
It was a stupid question. Even he admitted that. She was wearing her shirt from today. And nothing else. The hem of the rumpled garment ended at the top of long, shapely legs. She had taken her hair down. Her toes curled against the stone floor, so maybe she wasn’t quite as blasé as she wanted to appear.
“We started something earlier,” she said. “At the school. I’m sorry I ruined the mood by arguing with you.”
Some mysterious constriction in his chest eased. He picked up a curl that lay on her shoulder. “So soft,” he muttered.
“Do you still want me?”
“Oh, yes.” Slowly, he unbuttoned her top. She’d had the foresight to remove her bra already. Soon nothing stood between him and the lush female flesh waiting to be touched, stroked, mapped with every hill and valley noted.
Beth seemed frozen, barely breathing. She watched him, eyes downcast, as he traced her collarbone, played lightly with her tight nipples, lifted and plumped her soft breasts. He was trying his damnedest to go slow. But when she closed her eyes and shuddered, he almost lost it.
Gently, he tugged at the cotton shirt until it slid down her arms. He pulled it free and tossed it out of the shower. “Come inside,” he said hoarsely. “We’re getting the bathroom floor wet.”
His prosaic request sounded awkward to his ears. But coherent speech was difficult if not impossible. All the blood in his body had run south, leaving him lightheaded and perilously lost to reason.
Beth looked up at him. She laid a hand, palm flat, against his stubbly cheek. “Will you wash my hair?” she asked. Her big shadowy eyes held secrets...feminine wiles. She was so close to him their thighs brushed. His sex throbbed against her belly, eager to see action.
“Of course,” he said gruffly. “Turn around.”
Her creamy skin was flawless. Until now, he had never realized that shoulder blades could be sexy. But when they pointed the way to a nipped-in waist and a butt shaped to fit a man’s hands, the view was mouthwatering. He kissed the nape of her neck before reaching for a plastic bottle. His shampoo was scented with pine. He had a feeling that from tonight forward, this particular smell was going to provoke a Pavlovian response.
Easing her backward a step, he covered her eyes with his hand and directed the stream of water until it darkened and straightened her thick, vibrant hair. When every strand was soaked, he adjusted the spray in the opposite direction and pulled her flush against him until her bottom nestled in the cradle of his thighs.
It was a very perverse form of self-torture, but things got worse when he began rubbing soapy liquid into her hair. His fingers caressed her scalp. Beth groaned—a sexy, visceral sound that tightened every muscle in his body despite the warm shower. It was the most effective form of foreplay he had ever tried.
Beth seemed to be enjoying it, but more to the point, the gentle massage actually sent his libido into a state of high alert. He reached around her with both arms and slid his hands across slick breasts. Was she panting, or was it he?
It occurred to him—despite his mental faculties being sluggish—that the sooner he finished this project, the sooner he’d have Beth in his bed where he wanted her. Exercising admirable control, he returned to the task at hand and began rinsing her hair. Tiny soap bubbles clung to his fingers, even as strands of dark gold wound themselves around his wrists.
Beth remained silent. Since he was behind her, he couldn’t see her expression. Finally, after interminable minutes, he decided his job was complete. He had to clear his throat to speak. “All done,” he said.
She turned slowly, her lips curved in a smile of feminine amusement. “You have hidden talents, Mr. Farrell.”
“I’m only getting started.”
“That’s nice to know.” The air that surrounded them was thick with moisture and charged with anticipation.
Without asking for permission, she reached for the soap and a washcloth. Something about the lazy movements of her hands as she rubbed the plain white bar against the navy cotton square mesmerized him. “I think I was already clean before you joined me,” he pointed out, eager to move things along.
Beth reached up to kiss him, her lips clinging just long enough to drive him insane.
“I should make sure you didn’t miss any spots,” she whispered. “Put your hands behind your neck and spread your legs.”
He obeyed instinctively. Compliance was a foregone conclusion.
Without realizing it, he closed his eyes. When Beth touched him on the upper thigh, he flinched...hard. Her husky laugh sent desire raging through his veins. “Hell, Beth. Warn a guy, why don’t you?”
Warm, rough strokes were her answer. Somehow she managed to avoid his erection. She dragged the wet, soapy cloth over and around his thighs and between his legs. His teeth dug so hard into his lower lip he tasted the tang of blood.
“Enough,” he groaned.
“If you say so.” She aimed the water at his abdomen, creating a waterfall that cascaded down his groin. In some dim, barely reasoning corner of his brain, he registered the fact that his next water bill was going to be outrageous.
Without warning, slender fingers closed around his shaft. Holy hell. He was so close to coming that his vision blurred.
With her free hand, she stroked his chest. “Don’t fight it, Drew,” she whispered. “Let go. Enjoy.”
He grabbed her close, clutching her against him as he came with an audible groan that encompassed shock, amazement and physical nirvana.
* * *
Beth scarcely knew herself. It had taken great courage to invade Drew’s privacy impetuously. But earlier today, they had turned up the heat. The wanting and needing had remained on a slow boil all afternoon and evening. It was only her stubbornness that had caused the rift.
Drew wanted to do everything he could for her. He was generous to a fault. And even Beth acknowledged that providing assistance to those in need should not always be predicated on whether or not the recipient deserved the help.
But Audie
