Page 71 of Desperate Desires

Until I could get a handle on my emotions, it was probably better to keep them to myself.

Technically, we were married, though I had yet to look up whether it was actually legal or not. But why we were married was still unclear and for how long was another question that needed answering.

Ono hummed again, dragging my attention back to him. It was a pleasant rumbling sound. And I was grateful for it.

It made what might have been an awkward moment decidedly not awkward.

His eyes roamed over me once more and I shivered under that laser like stare.

Then he moved away from me and nudged me towards the opulent shower stall.

I stepped onto the natural tiles and sighed. The water had warmed them, and I liked the feel of the nonslip stone beneath the soles of my feet.

From what I’d seen, the entire house was done in warm neutral tones with polished wood floors that gave way to stone tiles. It was lovely, and the truth was I hadn’t had a vacation in a long time.

A moment later, I was standing beneath the luxurious spray of water running from the multiple showerheads, wondering how I wound up married and on a private island with this man, when he joined me.

This time, Ono was completely naked. The picture he made, all hard muscle and swirling tattoos, he just stole the very breath from my lungs.

We’d showered together before at my place, but the tiny bathroom in my apartment had nothing on this.

My eyes widened as I took him in from head to toe, not knowing where to look first.

He was like a work of art, perfectly sculpted and decorated with ink and muscle.

His skin was a healthy shade of pale with olive undertones, and I imagined he tanned well in the summer.

Ono invaded my space, the pull of attraction was so strong between us, I welcomed it. Welcomed the rush of desire I felt flood the space separating us.

I didn't know what to think about everything that had happened during the last few hours, and Ono didn’t seem bent on giving me any time to adjust.

That was okay.

Thinking was overrated, anyway.

“Turn around,” he said, and I obeyed.

He pumped soap into his hands and guided them over my skin. Ono hummed in approval as he rubbed my flushed body, bringing the familiar scented soap to a lather.

“Did you?” I asked, shocked as I turned my head and saw my brand toiletries inside the stall.

“How did you know that was what I buy?” I asked.

“Because I looked, Doc. Don’t you like them?”

I nodded, unable to reply without making a fool of myself. I was also not sure that I should feel so damn pleased by that.

“Good. Now scoot back so I can rinse you,” he murmured.

I couldn't speak. So I nodded again.

Sure, I was slick with want, but the nature of his touches wasn't sexual. It was perfunctory.

That I was getting turned on was my problem.

Although, judging from the long, hard staff sticking out between his legs, I would say Ono was having some problems of his own.

That was good to know. At least I wasn’t alone in this insatiable desire I felt for him.

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