He slid his arms around her waist and pulled her tighter to him, his thick cock branding her back.
“Nice,” she hissed, wishing she was facing him so her good parts lined up with his.
He kissed the top of her head. “It’s about to get even nicer.” He released her to trace a winding path over her rib cage beneath the water, gliding closer to the underside of her breasts with each pass. “Your skin is incredible.”
The tub squeaked as she shifted lower, trying to rush him, hoping to get him to cup her breasts. To pinch her aching nipples. Another slide and his thumb just narrowly missed one. She groaned in frustration as the bead tightened further, pouting for attention. “Touch me, Shane.”
“I am touching you, Mary Catherine. Just not where you want right now.” His voice was hypnotic and she stilled. He was going to do this his way, and the sooner she let him, the sooner he’d put her out of her sweet misery and reward her with a mind-blowing orgasm.
“Fine. Do your worst.”
He tossed his head back and laughed, his chest shaking against her back. “Such a martyr. I’m not trying to torture you like I used to, you know. This is just as hard on me.” He flexed his hips into the small of her back. “Harder, even. But tonight I’m determined to do the things I never got to at the lake.”
His fingertips skimmed over the swells of her breasts and again narrowly missed the stiff tips.
“Drape your legs over mine.”
She did. Her nipples grew impossibly tight, the heat of his gaze from over her shoulder setting her aflame. His hands abandoned her breasts, but before she could miss them, one was cupped over her stomach, the other cradling her pubic bone.
“You had on peach underwear,” he whispered, grinding the heel of his palm in exactly the right spot. “They were just cotton, boy-cut panties but I swear to God, they were sexier on you than any Victoria’s Secret thong I’ve ever seen. The bra matched. Sort of. Except for the tiny green polka dots.”
The hand on her stomach traveled up, covering her breast, and she arched into him.
“I wanted to trace every one of them with the tip of my tongue. Do you know I’ve had a polka dot fetish ever since?” His low laugh held more passion than humor. “You were a fucking dream.”
His words were as seductive as his hands and she tried to twist around in his arms. “I want…you inside me, Shane. Please.”
But he held her still, continuing the delicious torture. “When you stepped into the water and tossed that look at me over your shoulder, all sass and dare, with that sweet ass peeking out the bottom of those underwear, a school of piranha couldn’t have stopped me.”
“P-piranhas only live in the Amazon,” she murmured, not caring that it sounded inane.
“I couldn’t help but wonder what was under there. A thatch of red curls? A sleek strip of rust? Now I know. So neat, and sweet.” She stared down between her thighs, mesmerized by his fingers, sliding over the smattering of strawberry hair and deeper, to part her folds.
“Ah, Jesus,” she whimpered, gnawing her bottom lip as his fingers found her clit.
“Did you touch yourself that night, Mary Catherine?” She didn’t answer, sensation swamping her senses to the point that she didn’t trust herself to speak.
“Did you make yourself come thinking of me grinding against you in the warm water? Fuck knows, I did. I jerked off when I got home and came so hard, I thought my head was going to blow off.”
His clever fingers moved faster now, circling her clit in a rhythm that made her throat ache from holding back a scream. “Nothing stopping us now, babe.” He curled his hand, sending two fingers deep, and she shuddered.
He grunted and froze. “So wet. Jesus, Cat. Stand up. I want to take you from behind so I can see us. See that sweet ass while I fuck you.”
The need she’d thought couldn’t possibly get stronger doubled up in a rush. She stood and flipped on the shower. He rose behind her and pressed his palm against the center of her back, urging her to bend at the waist. She propped her hands on the slick gray tile, and dipped lower. The feel of his hot gaze encouraged her to take her time, pose a little for him. He must have liked the view because he let out a muffled groan. She gave her bottom a wiggle and peered over her shoulder to see his gaze locked on her.
“What are you waiting for?”
He shook his head as if to clear it. “Hell if I know,” he said with a pained smile. He closed his big, strong hands over her ass. He spread her wide, pressing his thumbs into the delicate tissue between her cheeks, and she moaned.
“That sound is making me nuts. I want to take it slow, but I need you so bad right now.” His voice was harsh, as if he’d walked miles in the desert without a sip of water. All she wanted to do was slake his thirst.
“I don’t want it slow. Don’t make me wait, Shane,” she pleaded.
He bit out a curse and then his hands slipped lower, massaging her from behind, spreading her wide. The thick head of his cock probed her slit, up and down, spreading her slick juices around her overheated flesh. Unable to take any more teasing, she flexed back against him, taking him deep. He tipped his hips forward until he was flush against her. For a moment, she forgot to breathe. The fullness was a double-edged sword. It was so sublime she almost wept, but at the same time it was torturous, turning want into a blaze of white-hot need.
“Please,” she whispered.
He didn’t answer, choosing to respond with his body. He pulled back, then arched forward, filling her again in an erotic slide. He repeated the motion, working in and out in slow, measured thrusts. She scrabbled at the tile, her hands like talons as he took her higher, luring her closer to the precipice. He rode her hard, with deep, steady strokes that curled her toes. He shifted, pushing her forward until every lunge ground the root of his cock hard against her aching clit. The sensation roared through her, like a train at full speed.
“I’m going to come,” she groaned.
He encouraged her with murmured words, quickening his pace until the wave slammed into her, wrecking her. Her body felt as if it were made of light as the tremors shook her. She dimly heard him calling her name.
“That’s it. God, so tight.” On a shout, he tumbled after her. His cock pulsed deep inside her, and she held on as his body shook behind hers.
Pure satisfaction coursed through her when he leaned forward, draping his torso over her back. His heart beat a rapid tattoo against her spine, and she smiled.
When they were both able to breathe, he pulled away. He flipped off the shower and reached for her, scooping her in his arms.
She squealed, laughing as he carried her into the bedroom. “We’re soaking wet, and that’s a four-hundred-dollar silk comforter! Don’t even think of dropping me on that.”
He set her gently on the floor and went back into the bathroom, returning with some towels a few seconds later. “Dry off while I go get our forgotten snacks.”
Ten minutes later, replete with her lunchbox sandwich and great sex, she slipped back into the bed. “Delicious,” she groaned with a satisfied stretch. And it was. She replayed the night in her mind and shivered. Had she really thought of him as boring? God, she couldn’t have been more wrong.
He settled in behind her and wrapped his arm around her waist. “I’m glad you liked it.”
She traced his muscled forearm and marveled at how happy and settled she felt. The usual urge to run away was nowhere to be found. In fact, she wanted nothing more than to snuggle in tighter and sleep in his arms. Maybe this could work, after all. Just maybe…
Her mind wandered, fantasies of them vacationing on a tropical island and skiing together in Vermont ran through her head.
“Do you scuba dive?” she asked.
No response.
“Shane?”
She turned to look at him and realized he was dead asleep. His deep, even breaths—almost like a soft snore—had her grinning. They could talk tomorrow. She’d grill him about his date with Courtney and see if maybe he’d consider putting a hold on his MeetMyMate.com membership until they had a chance to explore this thing between them.
Thing? It’s love, you idiot.
The unbidden thought sent her pulse racing with terror, and she waited for the need to flee. But it never came. Was it possible that she’d found a man who was worth risking it for? A man who knew exactly who she was and who wasn’t intimidated by it? There was no way to know for sure, but for the first time in her life, she found herself wanting to see if this could go somewhere. If they could stick. She tucked in tighter, making herself the little spoon. Tomorrow, she would make Lacey proud and open up to a man for the first time in her life.
She closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep, visions of Shane in her head.
Chapter Eleven
Light streamed through the window, and Shane cursed under his breath at a persistent buzzing noise.
“Are you going to get that?” Cat’s muffled voice came from beneath a mountain of blankets, and he grinned. She was curled into a ball and almost invisible, with only a few rusty curls poking out from the top of her makeshift fort.
“Yeah, I was dead to the world. Didn’t even realize it was my phone.” He lifted the covers and gave her bare bottom a pat before rolling off the bed. He’d barely taken a step when he tripped over the mound of clothes littering the beige carpet. “Don’t you have a closet for this stuff?”
“Doesn’t all fit.”
He pushed the pile aside with his foot and glanced at the clock. Almost 9:00 a.m. The last time he’d slept that late had been in college. By the time he found his jeans and dug his phone out of his pocket, the call had gone to voice mail. Good. With Cat still warm and sleepy, maybe he could—
The phone buzzed in his hand and he bit back a curse. He peered down at the number. Galen. He spared a glance at Cat and held up a finger. His buddy was on board with the idea of them dating, but he probably didn’t need to know that Shane had spent the night.
“Hello?”
“Hey, it’s Galen.” His friend’s voice sounded strange, and Shane tensed instantly.
“What’s going on, man?”
“Lacey and I are on our way to New York City for the weekend, but Rafe asked me to give you a call when I told him you were in town.” If Galen’s tone had been strained before, it was even more so now. “Shit, man, there’s a child missing in Caseville. Grace Abbott, four years old. The Abbotts have a cottage on Elmer Lake. They need volunteers, like now.”
Shane’s stomach clenched. Kids missing near lakes were always scary.
“They went to bed last night, kids tucked in and all was well,” Galen continued. “This morning, they woke around seven-thirty when they felt a draft coming from under their bedroom door. Gracie was gone and the front door was wide open. The PD is already on the scene, and Rafe is putting together a search party. He asked if you could make it over there to help.”
Shane stalked to the window and shoved the curtains aside. Fat flakes of snow fell to the already-covered ground. Fuck. He speared a hand through his hair and started running scenarios in his head. They went from bad to unthinkable, depending on how small the child was, what she’d been wearing, and what the temperature was when she left the house. Had someone taken her? Had she seen something out her window and gone to explore? Maybe she’d managed to find shelter somewhere and was huddled up with a stuffed animal or her favorite blanket. He refused to even think about the lake.
Shane juggled the phone and dragged his jeans on. “Are there signs of an abduction?”
“Shane? What’s going on?” Cat sat up on the bed, her face drained of color.
He covered the receiver and explained quickly. “There’s a missing girl in Caseville. I’m going to join the search party to help find her.” He turned his attention back to Galen on the telephone.