Page 37 of Freckles

“Yes,” I reply and would say more if he didn’t choose that moment to stand.

The water sluices off the firm muscles of his long body, leaving a pattern of dark hairs plastered to his skin. My eyes follow them down his chest, past his belly button to where they spread wide and thicken at the root of his enormous cock.

Spit pools on my tongue like he’s cramming it into my mouth again, bumping against my throat, triggering a rush of remembered sensations.

The gigantic appendage snakes halfway down the bulging muscles of his thigh and when he tugs it free of bubbles, the long length fattens at his touch. I drag my eyes away and mistakenly lock onto his gaze.

Kincaid raises an eyebrow and the skin between my shoulder blades tingles.

When I retreat another step, my back hits the door at the wrong angle and it starts to swing closed. In a panic, I grab for the handle, bumping the back of my fingers with enough force that I wince… but it’s still not enough for me to break eye contact.

“Are you going to offer me a towel when you’ve finished gawping?”

I grab one from the drying rail and thrust it at him before forcing my eyes down to the floor.

It would have been better if they’d gone there first because the sight of his wet, naked, six-foot-four body is now burned into my retinas for all eternity. A fact that doesn’t stop me sneaking another glance, this time at the curves of his magnificent arse.

“No need to blush,” he drawls in his gravelly voice. “I don’t mind you looking.”

The words catapult me into the hallway, and I slam the bathroom door behind me, breaking the spell. In the kitchen, I rest my hands on the counter and stare into space for a few seconds, then frown, scanning the bench.

My mail is gone. A quick hunt confirms the overdue bills aren’t in the rubbish or recycling bin and my neck prickles at the thought he’s read their contents and knows exactly how poor I am.

When I check the cupboards, they’re full of food that isn’t mine, likewise the fridge, which also contains a bottle of champagne chilling next to a near-empty carton of milk.

My grip on reality loosens again.What the fuck is going on?

“Take your wine and go,” I order the moment he walks into the room, towelling his thick hair dry.

He smirks. “If you keep stomping on all my romantic gestures, this date is going to get awkward fast.”

Romantic?Try psychotic.

“What date?”

Kincaid nods at the stove. “A fancy meal seemed a good bet. I didn’t know what you liked, so I got a selection. Once you’re ready to eat, it’ll take twenty minutes to warm.”

I open it, seeing ready meals from an expensive restaurant in town stacked inside. Far too much for two people. The smell is heavenly and my stomach rumbles, making him chuckle. “That’s a better reception.”

Each discovery winds my nerves tighter.

An internal clock ticks down the seconds until the appointment, until the house absolutely needs to be empty, and I have no idea how to make him leave.

I slam the oven door and turn back to him with my arms crossed. “You have to go.”

He folds the towel, stacking it on the counter, palm flat on top. The bulk of his body easily fills the exit. “That’s not going to happen. Not until I’m ready.”

I can’t meet his gaze. I can’t look at his body, even though he’s now dressed—if you call the sweatpants swinging low on his hips,dressed.

Kincaid relaxes until his hip bumps the counter and he sweeps a hand through his wet hair. A faint frown lines his forehead. He leans towards me, and I freeze in place, muscles refusing to move. Skin so hot I can hear it crackle.

My gaze fills with his hard brow and wide nostrils. His lips soft as they brush against mine, the world in such sharp focus it hurts.

His tongue flicks over my bottom lip, teasing, tender, then sucks it into his mouth, grazing his teeth across the nerve laden skin. My hands are on his chest, finding a resting place along the curve of his ribcage, my fingers stretching wide.

Without meaning to, my body arches into his, my curves melting against his hard muscles.

“You drive me crazy, Freckles.” His warm voice buzzes in my ear. “It’s like I’m under a spell.”

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