Page 78 of Assassin's Obsession

We already talked about that, but I was more interested in the fact that he wasn't always turned on than that he spent hours that way on other nights. "You mean you never went into the bathroom to rub one out?"

"No." His grimace of distaste says it all.

Right. The clean thing. "Why not go out to your car and take care of it?"

"That would have meant not watching you."

And he would rather sit there in painful arousal than stop watching me.

Before I can say another word a wolf's smile takes over his rugged features. "Time's up."

Was he freaking counting the seconds in his head?

"Good!" I'm ready to bend forward and dunk my head under the chest-high spray rather than wait for him to remove the showerhead from the wall again.

But he doesn't give me the chance. In a lightning fast move, the showerhead is in his hand again. He rinses my hair for the final time with a subtly different touch. Caressing my skull with sensual movements, my soon-to-be lover works the conditioner from my long tresses.

He replaces the showerhead and pumps some soap gel into his hands. "Now, it's time to wash you."

"How long is this going to take?" I make no effort to hide my sexual frustration, even as I can't take my eyes off his hands rubbing together to make a good lather.

Angelo's laughter is pure masculine appreciation for the condition he's gotten me in by washing my hair.

I don't care if he thinks he's the world's best lover and has mad skills for turning a shower into foreplay. I'll give him a plaque with that on it if he'll just get to the good stuff.

"Can we hurry this up?" I ask crankily. "Only, I'm ready for my first orgasm not engineered by my own hand."

He goes still in the act of running the soap over my shoulders and down my arms. "None of your other lovers has ever give you a climax?"

"I've never had another lover, so that would be a no."

His jaw works as his hands tighten on my upper arms. It doesn't hurt, but I'm not going anywhere.

"You've had boyfriends."

I don't bother asking how he knows that.

"In high school." I haven't dated since I graduated. "And they were more friends that were boys than boyfriends."

But like all my other school friends, I lost touch with the boys that took me to the prom and sat next to me at our school's sporting events. We always went in groups, and they were lucky if they got a short kiss goodnight.

"They didn't touch you?" Angelo's voice is tight, like he's trying to control those emotions he says don't rule his life.

Something sure seems to beimpactinghim right now.

"No. They were lucky if they got a kiss goodnight." I don't mention that I experimented with tongue kissing with my sophomore crush.

I have a feeling that will put him on Angelo's list. I'm learning how my sociopath's brain works.

"They never touched you here?" He cups my breasts, kneading them with deft fingers.

My knees go wobbly. "N…n…ooo…"

"They never saw the pretty pink raspberry of your nipples?" Angelo squeezes my breasts one last time before pinching both my nipples.

I was right, is the last coherent thought I have as my body crashes into an orgasm that cannot even sort of be described as mini.

When the sparkly bits recede from the edges of my vision, I'm in Angelo's arms being carried from the now silent walk-in shower.

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