I kissed her nose, her forehead, the bruise just beneath her eye. “I think that’s a wonderful idea.”
We stood that way even as the water began to cool. Something else she had said kept tapping at my brain. A part of me dreaded asking the question, but I really wanted to know. “You mentioned that the man said you were like your mother. Will you tell me what you meant?”
She shivered, and I didn’t know if it was because of the cooling water or from something else. “I—”
“How about we get dried off first?” I suggested, and she nodded.
Like she’d only remembered that she was naked, she lifted her arms, crossing them over her breasts. “Don’t. Your body is beautiful. Don’t hide it from me.” I extended both of my hands to her, urging her to uncover herself… but only on her own terms.
She seemed to relax, and her eyes fell from my face, to my chest, to my stomach. Lower. They widened and whipped back up to my face. Another day, at another time, her reaction might have been funny.
Today, it served as additional proof of just how innocent she was, despite the lush curves and supermodel looks. And that word again — vulnerable.
“The truth is, my mother was… is… a porn star,” she just blurted out.
I had to admit, that surprised me. I wasn’t sure what I expected, but that wasn’t it. I tried to imagine how it would be to grow up with that knowledge, be around that scene. It couldn’t have been easy, and from the way her face looked right now, it had been a nightmare. And it couldn’t have been easy to admit it either.
I blew out a breath. All right. If she wanted to continue the truth game, I’d go all in.
“The truth is, my wife was pregnant with our daughter when she was killed.”
Her fingers squeezed mine, her eyes filling with tears. “You win.”
I squeezed her fingers back. “There is no winner in any of this. Keep saying what you need to say.”
“The truth is, she wants me to do a movie with her. Mother-daughter is apparently a thing.”
I couldn’t even imagine that. Why did people have to suck so much?
My jaw was tight, the muscle throbbing as I confessed, “I killed the man who killed her.”
She didn’t look frightened. She only nodded, causing the tears that had brimmed to spill over. “I’m afraid of becoming like my mother, so I push people away.”
My chest constricted, and it took everything inside me to reach out and wipe away her tears. “I’m afraid to love anyone again. That hasn’t worked out too well in my life so far.”
The energy that always seemed to weave around us grew stronger as each of us let down our walls.
Zoe licked her lips. “The truth is, I’m desperate to make love with you, but I’m afraid I’ll freak out again.”
“I’m afraid that when I make love to you, it means I’ve cheated on my wife.”
We stood there, our souls as bare as our bodies, the air pulsing between us.
Then, when she stepped closer to me, her face lifting, our lips pressing together, I knew neither of us had to be afraid any longer.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Zoe
Something fierce and possessive flashed across his eyes before his mouth came down on mine, hard and hungry. He pulled me against his chest, his arms tight around me. We were both still damp, my hair still dripping, but it only added to the rawness of us coming together.
I leaned into him, moaning at his taste, his touch. It didn’t seem possible that a single kiss could make me feel so much. But I felt it all, everything the universe had to offer, and more.
His kiss. God, his kiss took my breath, stirred something deep inside me. The way our tongues twisted together, the way he sucked on it, nibbled at my lips. So good. It was like he was trying to devour me, consume every part of my flesh, and I’d gladly let him.
Still kissing, he walked me backward, not stopping until my back was against the solid surface of the door. He lifted our entwined fingers over my head, his long fingers wrapping around my wrists, his body pressed against mine. I was crushed between the hardness of the door and the strength of his body. I loved it. Loved how small and desired I felt.
I was at his mercy, and I didn’t care. It was exactly where I wanted to be. If I could choose any place, any time, any man, it would be here. Now. Him.
“I need you,” he breathed against my mouth before following his words with his tongue. I kissed him back hard, giving him my answer. I needed him too.
When I pulled, wanting my hands free, he released my wrists, and I groaned as my fingers settled in his hair. One hand fell to his beard. It was so soft but also rough, a contradiction much like the man himself.
He lifted his head, his forehead pressed against mine, our hot breath mingling between us. “I’m going to make love to you, and then fuck you, and before the night is over, I’ll make love to you again. Tell me you want it.”
Oh god, I wanted it. Nothing had ever sounded so good.
“Yes. Please. I want it. I want everything.”
With a small smile, he leaned in to kiss me again, then nibbled on my lips. “I love kissing you. I love how soft your lips are. How you taste.”
His tongue explored my mouth and I pushed back with my own, needing to know every part of his as well. As our tongues stroked each other, moved together, the fire in my belly expanded, leaving me hot, needy, and wanton, but I didn’t care.
I was falling. Falling under his spell, completely seduced by his every word and action.
Falling for this. For him.
Lifting me until I could wrap myself around him, he opened the door and strode to the bed. Then I was taking his weight as he pinned me with his warmth. He was so heavy, but the pressure was delicious as he sank onto me and began kissing me again.
What started as gentle took on a more urgent tone as his mouth tried to devour mine. I fed from him too, my arms and legs curling around him, refusing to let go.
“You have no idea what you do to me,” he said against my cheek as he slid his lips to my ear, then down my neck. “Do you know how beautiful you are? How strong and soft? How perfect?” He moved down to my chest and took a nipple between his teeth. “Your breasts are so responsive.” He bit down, and I groaned, arching into him, thrilling in the combination of pain and pleasure.
“Gray, please.”
He chuckled at my neediness, his teeth and tongue still doing wonderful things to my breasts. His fingers began their own torment, trailing down my stomach and hip before traveling between my legs.
Moving back up the bed, he stared down into my eyes as the first finger slipped inside before a second one immediately followed. I cried out, and he captured the sound in his mouth. He twisted and thrust his fingers, curling them until the edges of my vision grew dim.
“So tight,” he murmured. So…”
He hesitated. Groaned. And I felt his entire body grow rigid.
I opened my eyes, looked into his. “Say it.”