Swept Away (32 page)

She let a playful smile leak free as she stepped into the small tub shower with him, the cool
spray blocked by his large frame.

He immediately focused on her breasts, causing their peaks to tighten under his scrutiny. He
made a teasing, tsking sound and said, “Sunburn’s all gone.”

She cast a questioning smile. “Why do you sound disappointed?” “I was gonna kiss ’em and make ’em better.”

The words hissed down through her body like a burning dynamite fuse. “I’ll still let you kiss
’em,” she promised.

And with fire in his dark eyes, he backed her against the shower wall. He pressed her arms
over her head, his fingers threading with hers against the old tile, his body grazing hers from
chest to thigh. His kiss came hot, long, pleasantly capturing her. She’d never felt such power
flowing from any man as she did with Brock, and it was impossible not to lose herself in it.

She returned the kiss, luxuriating in the lushness of his mouth on hers, aware that her nipples
raked against his chest and that—oh yes!—his erection was growing delightfully harder against
her belly, making the small of her back ache with desire.

When he broke away, it was only to head south—he rained still more sweet kisses over her
neck, down onto her chest, then her breast. When he took the taut bud into his mouth, suckling, slow and deep, the exquisite pull reached to her very core. “Oh...” she heard herself practically
purr.

“I’ve been dying to get a taste of these, kitten,” he admitted, then swirled his tongue around her
nipple to leave her moaning.

“They might, uh, taste better after the shower,” she said, somewhere between a sigh and a
smile.

Moving on to the other breast, he raked his tongue across the pink bead as he gazed up at her. “Taste fine right now. Sweet. Like you.” The compliment tumbled through her, mingling with
heat, and she decided she’d been wrong about liking him better when he was the silent type.

When finally he finished laving her sensitive breasts, she couldn’t help but glance down—
because his erection had continued to press into her, and while she’d recently experienced the
joy of feeling it inside her, she hadn’t yet really seen what rested between his thighs.

Only—it wasn’t exactly resting. And it was easily the most beautiful and majestic male
specimen she’d ever encountered. She bit her lip, weak at the sight.

“Like?” he asked.

She lifted her gaze to find his mere inches away, not a hint of a smile on his handsome face. He
was so hot she had to swallow. “A lot,” she breathed.

He leaned in for another tongue kiss and she decided to prove her point by wrapping her hand
around him, just like when she’d first unzipped his pants. Mmm, silk over steel. He moaned.

She glanced down for another peek—but then, oh my! She gasped upon spotting his tattoo: an
angular, graphical version of the sun—right behind his stiff shaft. “Oh my God.” Kat had
thought she’d seen sexy things before, thought she knew sexy. But this was... oh, this was something new.

“Like?” he asked again.

This time she couldn’t even answer except for another eloquent, “Unh.”

Looking sensual as hell, he rewarded her with yet one more scintillating kiss, after which she tried to catch her breath. “How did, um... I mean... did this hurt?” It was located squarely
between his navel and the base of his penis.

“They all hurt, kitten.”

“But, I mean how did this you know, come about?”

He cocked his head, clearly amused by her bewilderment. “I’ve got a friend in Miami who’s a tattoo artist, so I told her I wanted one someplace where very few people would see it. She
suggested this, and I thought, what the hell.”

Kat glanced down again, pushing his erection aside just enough to get another good look. “I bet
she enjoyed her work that day.”

He chuckled. “Actually, I think it was just another tattoo to her.”

That sounded impossible. “Well, it’s not just another tattoo to me.” She couldn’t quite get over it, in fact. And it made her want to spend a lot more time in that area.

“Knowing you like it so much, kitten, makes it worth every ounce of pain.” He narrowed his
gaze on her hotly, just before dropping it to her hips and below, as if looking for something.

Shit—she’d told him she had a tattoo in a private place, too. She cringed, but he was too busy
searching to notice. “Where is it? On your ass? Turn around.” He steadied his hands at the curve of her waist, ready to spin her away from him.

She let out a sigh, feeling like an idiot. “I have a confession.”
He met her eyes. “Oh?”

She clenched her teeth lightly, feeling utterly caught. “I don’t really have a tattoo. I kinda lied.”

He lowered his chin, looking doubtful at first, then slowly quirking a soft grin. “Why?”

“I don’t know.” She spread her hands and shrugged. “I really don’t. I guess I just thought it seemed sexy.”

His eyes went sultry again. “Kitten, you don’t need a tattoo to be sexy—trust me on this. You
breathe sexy.”

She bit her lip, feeling sexy. And sort of like she’d stepped into some kind of dream. A few
days ago, she never would have believed she’d be in a shower with Brock Denton, discovering
the hottest tattoo on the planet in his most private area, hearing him tell her how sexy she
was and then watching him reach for the body wash.

He grabbed up the fluffy, round, spongy thing she’d hung on the shower handle, squeezed some of the pearlized liquid into it, and gently began to wash her.

The next few minutes were heaven. Brock ran the sudsy sponge over Kat’s shoulders and
arms, her breasts and belly, her hips and thighs—and once in between, making her shiver.
Facing away, she held up her hair as he washed her back and bottom, nearly melting when he
gave her a warm little kiss on the neck for good measure.

Then, to her surprise, he reached for her shampoo and said, “Lean your head back toward me.”
When his fingers sank into her hair, massaging her scalp, she felt it all the way to her toes.
She’d never dreamed a guy’s hands on her head could produce such tantalizing sensation, even
making her moan.

“Feel good, kitten?”

“Mmm,” she replied. And after she stepped under the spray, Brock helping her rinse, she
looked up into his eyes, bit her lip, and grabbed the sponge. “My turn.”

Soaping up Brock’s muscular body was like running her hands over every inch of a perfect
male statue. She wasn’t sure she’d ever taken the time to explore any guy’s body the way she was slowly discovering his right now, but found herself glad she’d waited to do it with Brock.
No other man would have lived up to her wants and expectations. No other man would have
compared to the images of Brock in her mind from her youth—only now he surpassed those images, because he was broader and stronger, every ounce a man.

Thoroughly aroused, the crux of her thighs burned. She remained drawn to that hotter-than-hot tattoo, her sponge making its way there again and again. And, of course, while she was in the
neighborhood, it would be rude not to swirl it around his penis another time or two. Which
looked sumptuous covered in suds.

As she worked, his muscles tensed slightly beneath her touch, and his breath grew heavier. Her
own limbs felt just as weighty with building passion. She rose to kiss him, and he lifted his
hands to her face even as she caressed him below—finally abandoning the sponge.

Turning him toward the spray so that the soap rinsed away, she reached around from the rear to
slide her hand behind his erection and over the tattoo, then leaned up to whisper in his ear.
“Would you think I was a bad girl if I wanted to kiss it?”

Heat filled his gaze as he looked over his shoulder. “The tattoo? Or something else?”
She drew in her breath, then teased him. “I’m not sure yet.”

He grinned. “Kitten, I’ve always thought you were a bad girl—in the best possible way.”

As Kat slowly descended to her knees, her stomach tightened. This was not what she’d
planned on when she’d agreed to a shower with him. But she found herself overwhelmed with desires she’d never quite experienced.

How much would it surprise Brock to know that, although she’d done this before, she’d never
really longed to do it, never really felt the burning urge that sizzled inside her now? How much would it surprise him to know that—even though this was about heat and arousal—it also came from her heart, her very soul, from the deepest part of her, because she wanted him to know

ultimate pleasure and because she wanted to be the one to deliver it?

She ran her palm slowly up his hardness. Sucked in her breath. Met his gaze above and loved
the fire there. Suffered the incredible yearning to be his.

Wrapping her hand firm around him, she drew that part of him aside and leaned in to kiss that
sexy tattoo. He moaned as his flesh contracted beneath her lips, and she realized with a jolt of
feminine power that no one had ever done just that before, kissed him exactly there, and that he
hadn’t realized how good it would feel. When their eyes next met, she witnessed a new depth
of passion in his gaze and wondered if he saw the same in hers.

I love you.

No, don’t think that, Kat. You can’t.

There was suddenly no more Ian—whisked from her mind as frighteningly easily as if he’d
been but a speck of dirt on her shoe—yet she still couldn’t admit such emotions for Brock. He
wasn’t a man who stayed, a man who loved. He’d changed a lot, but in some ways he was just the same—a dangerous loner whose heart was his own.

So she told herself she wouldn’t think the words, wouldn’t permit herself to—but she still knew deep inside what it was that flowed through her veins.

And it also flowed from her mouth in kisses, soft, tender kisses that spanned his length, top to bottom, then back again. Spray from the shower—just distant enough that a thin mist made him
wet—left his taut skin tasting of fresh, cool water. She heard his labored breath, felt his hand
rake through her wet hair, but she focused only on her task, only on the giving—and the
thrilling joy it gave her in return—particularly when she slid her tongue around the tip of him,
then lowered her mouth there.

“Ah, kitten,” he groaned, filling her with a hot satisfaction she’d never known before. Because
she gave this affection with her whole heart, feeling so much more tender, she suspected, than
Brock would ever believe. Because she’d been so broken by him once upon a time. But this
was no time for such ruminations. No, it was a giving time.

So she gave more, with her mouth, her hands. She gave him everything she felt inside. And he
moaned and gasped above her, and it made her want to give still more, and more. “Kitten,” he
said, sounding heated, urgent. “Kitten, I can’t Stop, honey, or I’ll”