She drew in a startled breath but he didn’t look at her face, was suddenly too entranced by her body. His gaze slid farther south, to her wet panties, to the dark vee of hair now easily seen behind the thin satin fabric. To that place he desperately wanted to see more of.
His cock grew thick and hard as he studied each gorgeous inch of her body. As he remembered what she’d felt like in that cave, how she’d tasted against his tongue. And in the silent steam circling his head, he knew without a doubt that he wanted her. More than he had before. More than he’d fathomed possible when he’d decided to pull her into this shower in the first place.
Common sense told him to get the hell out right now, but he ignored it, wanting only to prolong this moment. He dropped to his knees, dragged the bar of soap across one hip and down her thigh. She sucked in another breath and held it, then gently rested her hands against his shoulders as if trying to balance. And this close, with the only sound the rush of water from above, he caught her scent. Jasmine and…the sharp tang of her own arousal.
His gaze darted up in surprise. Her eyes were closed. Her lips tightly compressed. Against his shoulders, her hands tensed as he continued to rub soap all over her legs, but she didn’t push him away. And when his fingers brushed her inner thighs, she moaned.
Holy hell. She was as turned on as he was. The realization made his balls tingle; shot an image of him sliding off her panties, brushing his fingers against her most sensitive flesh ricocheting through his mind until it was all he could focus on.
No. No. He couldn’t do that. He’d promised her he wouldn’t.
Swallowing against the urge, he pushed to his feet. Knew he needed to finish this and refocus. “Turn around.”
She let go of his shoulders, did as he said without a word. And then it was his turn to groan. It had been too dim to see well in the caves but in the fluorescent glow of the bathroom he got his first good look at what he’d only barely had his hands on earlier. Strong toned shoulders, a slim waist, and a firm, tight ass he definitely shouldn’t be staring at now.
Shower…shower…think about showering. Not sex. Definitely not sex. This is about getting clean. Not getting off.
Heat seared his skin, sent sweat slicking his forehead. He swept the soap over her spine harsher than he intended, and only barely brushed her backside before turning her around again. And though he tried not to notice the pink tinge to her cheeks that said she knew exactly what he’d been thinking, he couldn’t ignore the way her eyes remained tightly shut as if she couldn’t stand to face him. As if she were repulsed by him. As if he were every bit the monster she believed him to be.
The arousal he’d felt before swept out on a wave. A mixture of disappointment and anger rushed in to fill the void. What did he expect? That she’d like his touch? That she’d want him after everything he’d done? He really was psychotic if he thought she’d ever see him as a man. Clenching his jaw, he ran the soap down her arms to her fingers, all the while calling himself a fucking idiot, then faltered when he caught sight of the fine white lines all over the soft skin of her inner arms.
Scars? He couldn’t tell. But a glance at her face told him now—when she clearly only wanted to get as far away from him as possible—was not the time to ask.
He slapped the bar in her hands. “Hold this.”
Large, onyx eyes peered up at him as he poured shampoo from the travel bottle on the side of the shower into his palm and lathered her hair. Eyes he tried like hell to ignore. Eyes that dragged at his attention because they were so damn mesmerizing.
He ground his teeth together, focused on his task. But when her hands landed against his forearms, heat ricocheted through his body all over again. And the groan that slipped from her lips nearly made him come out of his skin.
Gods, the sounds she made. His hands stilled in her soapy hair. He chanced a look at her face, saw her eyes were closed once more. But this time pleasure, not pain, coated her features. And his cock grew hard once more with the prospect of hearing her moan like that when he was touching her elsewhere. When he was kissing her. When he was inside her.
No sex. No sex. Nooooooo sex.
“Tip your head back,” he said between clenched teeth.
He quickly rinsed the lather from her hair. Took the soap from her hand and turned away so she couldn’t see the erection pushing against his soaked boxer briefs. As rapidly as he could, he lathered his chest and stomach. Told himself to remember why the hell he was keeping her with him. Not for his own perverse pleasure, but so he could think.