Page 84 of Inarticulate

Hell, yes. That’s exactly what she was doing. She approached the archway leading to the bathroom she’d been introduced to the night of the bonfire and didn’t deny the energized goosebumps from covering every inch of her flesh.

Ahead was the entrance to the toilet, but her interest rested on the door opposite the mirror. She lunged for the handle, escaped into a new hiding place, and closed herself inside. The sight of the deep bath and spotless shower made her moan. The desire to wash away the dirt and grime and fear becoming a living, breathing thing.

She placed her cell on the rim of the bath, unzipped the back of her dress, and shimmied until the material pooled at her feet. She couldn’t think past the need to be clean, to be able to start fresh. Her lingerie was next, her bra and panties adding to the pile of stale clothes before she leaned into the shower and turned on the taps.

She paced, back and forth, back and forth until steam billowed at her feet. On the tips of her toes, she stepped into the open-ended shower and groaned as the water enveloped her entire body.

This was meant to be an easy task—go to Seattle, calm staff frustrations, establish a professional relationship with Grandiosity. Only she’d fumbled at every turn. She alienated Penny, again. She became entangled with a man who should’ve been off limits, again. And the repeated failures didn’t stop her from wanting him. The desire was still there, clawing at her chest, squeezing at her lungs.

When had stupidity become her A-game?

She grabbed at the soap in the holder and scrubbed away the lasciviousness. Every inch of skin was scoured, cleansed, and yet the dirt remained, hiding in her pores, clinging to her hair. She couldn’t get it off.

She didn’twantto get it off.

The sensations that enveloped her when she was with Keenan were addictive. He touched places and inspired emotions she hadn’t found enticing before. He rewired her morals and rewrote her goals.

He changed her.

But what was more important, a man or her job? Who meant more to her, her cousins or the guy who made her body sing?

A foreign click brushed her ears, followed by the slow sweep of the door. She sighed as the water sprayed her face and Keenan’s presence reignited goosebumps.

“I should’ve turned the lock,” she murmured and opened her eyes to the answer she had to quit denying. What she needed was sitting on the edge of the bath now dressed in cargo pants and a long-sleeve shirt, staring at her with unease.

She washed the soap from her body, wiping her hands over her thighs, her stomach, her breasts. He followed the progression and gripped the rim of the bath in clawed fingers. His admiration made every nerve stand to attention and beg for more. She could deny the world existed when she was trapped under that heated scrutiny.

He grabbed at the hem of his shirt and lifted, tugging it above his smooth stomach, his muscled pecs, and over his head. Then those talented fingers lowered to the buckle of his belt.

Oh, heavenly temptation.She salivated for a glimpse of what was tenting his pants. Her mouth insisted on a taste of what was beneath that zipper.

“No.” She shut off the water and surveyed the four walls in search of a towel.

He raised his chin to her rejection, stood, and strode from the bathroom, leaving the sound of slammed cupboards in his wake. When he walked back into view, he held a towel outstretched in his arms, the fluffy white material coming with the unspoken message that he needed to be the one to drape it over her shoulders.

“Thank you.” She turned and backed into him, letting him cover her. The closer she came, the stronger his scent grew. He’d put on aftershave—intoxicating, dreamy aftershave.

“Can you do me a favor?” She pivoted back in his direction and lazily ruffled her hair with the corner of the towel, letting him look his fill.

He met her eyes and raised a brow. A superior, playboy brow.

She shouldn’t be doing this. Shouldn’t be thinking what was running through her head, yet the thoughts wouldn’t fade. “Are you able to finish what you started?”

“What?” He frowned.

She wrapped the damp material around her, securing it above her breasts, and walked from the room. She led him into the adjoining area and assumed a position from the past—her hands against the counter, her gaze focused on his reflection in the mirror. “Finish what you started the night of the bonfire.”

He grinned, slow, lethargic, and so fucking sexy her pussy clenched with his approach. His body nestled behind her, his chest to her back, his crotch to her ass. His lips lowered, his mouth finding the decadent place where her shoulder met neck, striking the match of lust-filled insanity.

She moaned, unable to strengthen herself against the one kiss that raised every hair on her body. He awakened her with skill that defied logic. He was a prize, not a misgiving. A treat, not a punishment.

Sparks ignited at her thighs, his fingers creeping under the towel, inching higher. She rubbed against his erection, the rhythmic circle of her hips tormenting her clit and making it throb. “I’m falling for you, too.” She craned her neck, giving him better access for his talented mouth. “I adore you.”

His gaze cut to hers, his kiss-darkened lips glistening. His desire was tangible, and so was his affection—his unspoken promise.

“But I need to keep this a secret. I need you to tell Penny that we didn’t work out. That I left with no plans to return.”

His chin raised, his jaw clenched.

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