Page 90 of The Heiress's First Date

I reach for her. Her skin is cold, and I run my hands up and down her arms, letting the friction warm her.

Together, we tug off her shirt, letting it plop to the floor. She stretches up on her toes, kissing me again. I groan, in heaven, with her in my arms. Utterly besotted with how freely she offers herself to me.

“Let’s get you into a warm shower.”

She makes a happy humming sound. “Yes, please.”

We move toward the bathroom, stripping each other as we go. The luxurious space is just wall dressing because she’s the star. Pressing kisses against my skin. Nimble fingers working my clothing off. An eager smile lighting up my universe. I barely notice the marble tile or the polished fixtures. They’re just colors and textures in my periphery.

Under the soft lights of the gleaming bathroom, she steps away. “I’ll be right there.”

While she heads for the water closet, I turn on the shower knobs, getting the water at just the right temperature. I tip my head back beneath the spray, wishing it could wash away my to-do list along with my worries.

Something to think about when I get home, not now.

“What are you thinking about so hard?” Katherine asks, arms wrapping around me from behind.

I didn’t even hear her open the door.

“Nothing you need to worry about.” I turn, wrapping my arms around her, pulling her into the stream, and running my hands all over.

She watches me for a few seconds, a careful regard that makes me feel like a bug beneath a magnifying glass. “I’d like to worry with you.”

I drop my chin, slayed by her unwavering solidarity. She holds me tight, cheek pressed against my chest.

“You’ve got plenty of worries of your own,” I remind her, then bite my tongue.

What the fuck, Hunt? Why are you ruining a perfect afternoon?

“Hmm... true. But that doesn’t mean I can’t carry some of yours too. You don’t have to tell me, of course. I’m here if you want to share.”

I press a kiss against her hair. How did I get so lucky? She’s offering, not pushing. Open and available, not demanding.

I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone so willing to step in and help me. That’s a bit by design, of course. I’ll admit that I keep people at arm’s length. I’ve lived a long time trying not to get too close. To not feel too deeply. To not become too attached because attachment leads to heartache.

At least that’s what I told myself, and now I’m breaking all the rules.

“I’m not the kind of guy who daydreams—” The words tumble from my lips, but I don’t even know what I’m saying.

Her hands move across my bare chest like a conqueror on her way to claim new lands. Utterly distracting, and yet...

“But you make me want things I’ve never wanted before. It’s hard to remember the rules I set for myself.”

She reaches for the fancy body wash she ordered and drizzles it into her palm. “Oh?”

Then, after rubbing her hands together and working up a lather, she reaches for me, coaxing me into spilling all my thoughts. It’s like when she touches me, I can’t help myself.

“I never wanted to feel loss again after Courtney died.”

Katherine gives a soft “mmhmm” and continues her quest. Hands sliding down my abs, around my navel, over my hips, purposely avoiding the part that wants her attention the most.

When I don’t say anything else because I can’t decide what to say, she gently turns me and starts the process all over again. Shower gel. Lather. Wash.

“I can’t imagine how hard that must have been on you. On your parents.”

“My dad told me to look after her.”

Her hands still on my shoulders. “When?”

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