“Both,” he said solemnly, giving her a slow salute. “What was that about bathing a Marine, Ms. Prescott?”

“There are two loofahs,” she pointed out. “One for each of us.”

“No sense in letting a good loofah go to waste,” he agreed, taking it down and pouring the body wash over it.

They moved the loofahs slowly, exploring skin and curves, savoring new territory as their hands glided up and over and down arms and legs while the water’s soft hiss sang around them.

Gasps of surprise and delight were exchanged as sensitive spots were fingered and smoothed and stroked until their need reached a higher level and the shower was abandoned. The slow, gentle toweling of bodies became an exercise in exquisite, tortured pleasure, as if waiting until the last moment to start the next step would only make the coming pleasure all the greater.

And then, much later, when they had exhausted every possible pleasure, they nestled against each other, listening to the sound of each other’s steady breathing.

“You okay there, Ms. Prescott?” Griff asked.

Her soft laugh rippled over him. “I think my lips are bruised from kissing you too hard,” she said.

“I’m glad you were careful with my more important parts,” he teased and laughed when she swatted at him.

“Do you still like my ass?” she asked, rolling to prop her chin on his chest, her fingers doing a little dance there.”

“Best ass in town,” he said, giving it a little slap. “Prettiest too. And you’re a really,reallygood kisser.”

“Am I?” She inched up to demonstrate her skill with a maddening slowness, her hands palming his face.

“Oh, yeah,” he sighed. “How’s your arm?”

Her grin slid past wicked. “How’s your knee?”

“Well,” he said, “I think we need to test our private form of physical therapy again before we go to sleep.”

“Copy that,” she whispered, and surrendered to his kiss.

CHAPTER19

Sunday morning

“–diedafter being shot at The Main Place yesterday afternoon. Silas Clark is survived by–”

“Damn.” Griff clicked off the TV. “Do you suppose the police even got to question him?”

“That makes three that have died since Monday.” Worry darkened Elaine’s eyes as she put the breakfast plates on the dining room table and sat. “Big Daddy and The Cadre are getting desperate. They have no idea of what and how much we know.”

“Yeah, but according to Clark,The Honeysgot here on Wednesday,” Griff pointed out as he joined her. “They’ve probably got shows or engagements booked before the Tech and Auto shows start next weekend.”

Her teeth caught her lip in thought, giving Griff time to study her in quiet appreciation. Her navy-blue robe added a shimmer to her pale hair and his heart surged in memory of his fingers sliding through the silken strands as he washed it last night.

More still at exploring her body over and over, joining his to hers in an ecstatic and overwhelming celebration of need and desire.

“So, how ya’ doing this morning?” he asked.

Fine lines crinkled around her eyes as she grinned at him. “I’m good,” she said. “Really good. You?”

“Never better,” he said, struggling with what to say next, then changed his mind.

She traced her fingers around the rim of her coffee cup. “How long will you be in Knoxville? I mean when this mission is over?”

“I don’t know,” Griff said honestly. “If Hank and BP need me to stay here, I’ll stay. Even when we put these creeps to bed–”he laughed as a blush stained her cheeks at his choice of words–“I don’t think The Cadre will give up easily or completely vanish from East Tennessee.”

“So do you think Hank will let you stay here?”