Tara shook her head and instantly felt dizzy. She still tasted the whiskey on her breath. She never drank hard liquor. But tonight it seemed she was doing a lot of things she never did. Including openly propositioning a stranger.
There had to be another way to make her parents understand that they couldn’t live her life for her and that she needed to make her own decisions—and her own mistakes. She knew she needed to build up her self-confidence so she could stand up to them and tell them politely, but firmly, that she needed to be independent. But right now her mind was blanking on how to accomplish this seemingly impossible feat. All she could think of was what it would be like to be in Jay’s arms. She’d seen the way he’d looked at her, desire in his eyes. And his hard on hadn’t escaped her either. Did he really find her that attractive? Or did it really not matter to a guy as long as it meant he was having sex?
She sighed, turning in the shower to finish rinsing her hair, when she froze in mid-movement.
Jay stood in the door to the bathroom, wearing only his tuxedo pants, his chest bare. She ran her eyes over him, drank in his muscular body, the way he stood there with clenched fists as if he was fighting something. His pectorals flexed, his chest heaved, and his Adam’s apple bobbed.
Tara lifted her head, and their eyes met. His irises were like molten lava.
“You didn’t lock the door.”
His words were like a growl. They made her shiver involuntarily. None of her former boyfriends had ever looked at her like this. With such raw lust, such passion. Nor had she ever felt so aroused with any of them.
“I…I f…” Forgot, she wanted to say, but it would have been a lie. She’d heard his warning, but she’d ignored it. Blatantly ignored it. Because tonight she was playing with fire. Her fury had made her reckless, and the alcohol had made her brave.
“You make it very hard for a man to behave like a gentleman,” Jay ground out.
She made no move to cover her nakedness as he took a step into the bathroom, then a few more. Was he really walking into the shower in his tuxedo pants, not caring that water was soaking them? The wet fabric clung to his body, revealing every muscle and every ridge beneath it. Was she dreaming? No, this couldn’t be true. She’d clearly had too much to drink at the party. First several glasses of champagne and then the whiskey after she’d rescued the guy from the pool. Yes, the whiskey had pushed her over the limit.
She wasn’t really on a boat with a handsome waiter whom she’d just met. She wasn’t really in his shower, because the real Tara was too shy to do something like that. The real Tara had too many inhibitions to act like this. And for sure, the real Tara wouldn’t use a man just to piss off her parents.
“Darlin’.”
The heavily accented word sank deep into her. A hot breath caressed her lips, before a warm mouth slid over them, pressing softly against them. Large hands touched her naked skin, and suddenly a strong chest pressed against her breasts and the sensitive nipples that had hardened at the sight of Jay.
“Kiss me, Tara,” he murmured against her parted lips, the sound reverberating in her chest.
His tongue stroked gently over her lips, waiting, coaxing, while one hand slid down to her behind and cupped it possessively. When he pressed his pelvis against her, she moaned involuntarily. Beneath his now-soaked pants, he was rock hard.
She slid her arms around him, bringing one hand to his nape, and swiped her tongue against his. A groan burst from him, and he pressed his lips harder to hers, taking possession of her mouth. There was a wildness to the way he kissed her, something untamed, almost uncivilized. Together with his masculine taste and his strong hands, it made her melt into him, made her forget everything for a moment. Why she was here, who she was, who he was.
Nothing seemed to matter but the searing heat that built between them, the urgency with which he explored her, as if all this could vanish into thin air at any moment. She held onto him for dear life, responding to the powerful thrusts of his tongue and the corresponding undulations of his hips as he ground his pelvis against her belly.
Warm water kept raining on them, making their bodies slide smoothly against one another, adding to the illusion of being in a dream. When he interrupted the kiss, she found herself craving more, but he simply looked at her with unreadable dark eyes.
“Tara, how did I get so lucky?”
Before she could grasp the meaning of his question, he’d already turned the water off, and crouched down in front of her.
“So lucky,” he murmured, bringing his head to the juncture of her thighs.