“Oh, my God!” she panted when he finally scooped her up in his arms. “I feel like my insides are a boiling pot of heat and desire.”
His chuckle was as hoarse as if he was a lifetime smoker. “Is that a pickup line, Allie?”
“It’s a fact. Where are you taking me?” she asked. “Please say it’s to your bed because Shooter is on the sofa.”
“Say no now if you are going to,” he whispered.
“I couldn’t say no even if I wanted to,” she said softly.
Instead of turning into the room where his king-size mattress took up most of the floor he carried her into the bathroom and set her on the floor. “You are simply beautiful, Allie, and you deserve so much more than a slam-bam-thank-you-ma’am. We’ve got all afternoon so I want to make this last. First a nice warm bath together.”
“Are you serious?” she asked.
He bent and captured her lips again. And this time it was a whole new experience, as if they’d never shared kisses before. Would it always be this hot and heavy or would it burn itself out after the first sex session?
“Are you telling me you are a bath virgin?” he asked.
“My name is Alora Raine Logan, and I’m a bath virgin. But I’m willing to give it up today, January fifteenth. Oh! Fifteen is my lucky number. This is good.”
He set her down and removed her coat. “I’ll be gentle.”
She pushed the sleeves of his jacket down and threw it in the corner with her coat. “I might not be.”
He pulled her to his chest again. Unfastening her shirt, one button at a time, he lingered over the exposed skin, kissing and tasting every inch as it was revealed. “You are so beautiful.” He unfastened her jeans, slid them down along with her cotton underpants, and tossed them into the clothing pile.
She didn’t argue because anything resembling words had suddenly left her brain. Her knees were weak when her bra flew through the air and landed near her jeans. He picked her up and carried her a few feet to an old ladder-back chair and sat down with her straddling his lap.
“Bath?” she gasped.
“Not yet. I need to touch you and feel all this glorious skin.” His hands were everywhere, burning as they went and heating up every fiber of her being. She had no idea that foreplay could be this much fun.
“If it’s going to be a bath for two, then I’ll have to return the favor.” She tugged his flannel shirt free from his jeans. Starting at the top, she popped all the snaps in one fell swoop and pushed it off his shoulders. When it joined the pile of clothing in the corner, she ran her fingertips through the soft dark hair on his chest, slowing down when she reached his taut nipples.
“You drive me crazy, Allie. I’ve wanted to touch you since the first time I laid eyes on you,” he said.
“I thought I wasn’t your type,” she said.
“So did I but I was wrong.”
She arched against him and groaned loudly. “I’m not so sure I can wait for a bath.”
“Anything worth doing is worth doing right.”
He stood her up on the bathroom floor and took her by the hand, led her to the tub, and turned on the water. “Put your hand down here and tell me when it’s warm enough.”
“Are you talking about water or something else?” She bent forward and he strung kisses from her neck, down her back, across her hips, and to her knees.
“And you called me wild?” He chuckled.
She stuck her hand under the running water. “You probably need to put ice in it.”
“Oh, no, darlin’. I want you to be every bit as hot as you’ve made me. You are so beautiful that it flat out takes my breath away.”
She didn’t care if he’d used the same lines on thousands of women or if he’d gotten a bum rap when it came to his reputation and wasn’t as wild as everyone said. She wanted to finish what they’d started.
“Do I really make you hot?” she asked.
He shucked out of his boots, socks, jeans, and underwear, and stood before her every bit as naked as she was. She gasped and moved closer to him, her hand reaching out to encircle an erection that was so ready it pulsated. “That’s hotter than the water. It might make it boil when it gets into the bath.”
“Oh, darlin’, we might need that ice after all.” He scooped her up and put her in the tub.
He crawled into the ancient old claw-foot tub with a sloped back, with her facing him, their legs touching.
“Don’t ever get rid of this tub,” she said.
“Don’t intend to.” He grinned.
She moved her foot slightly and found him still hard as steel, and using her foot to steady things, she softly massaged his erection with the toes of her other foot.
“Sweet Jesus, you’re not a bathtub virgin at all,” he said.
“Yes, I am. It must be some of the DNA from my Audrey’s Place ancestors rising to the top, and I have to admit I like it,” she whispered.