Page 70 of Always a Bridesmaid
“Good boy!” Violet squatted and showered him with affection. “Who’s a good boy? That’s you, isn’t it?” She patted the other puppies, and Pyro glanced at Ford.
At Ford’s nod, Pyro rushed over for the snuggle party.
With all the puppies wagging their tails, Violet declared her mission accomplished. The crusted mud that fell from her jeans reminded her how filthy she was. “I’m going to leave a trail from here to the bathroom.”
“We can shed our shoes and jeans here in the tiled entryway.”
While she’d been halfway naked in front of him only ten or so minutes ago, her adrenaline had ebbed, and it was brighter in here. Suddenly she was calculating how long it’d been since she’d shaved her legs.
Of course she hadn’t worn her fancy underwear—she’d never dreamed anyone but her would be seeing them.
“I can’t speak for the puppies, but don’t worry, I’ll be a gentleman and turn around.” Ford pivoted toward the wall, and she caught his arm.
“What if I…?” The fervor that’d assailed her body earlier pulsed to life, beseeching her to carry on with living in the moment. “What if I don’t want you to be a gentleman?”
A harsh breath whooshed from his lips—one that broadcast his desire for her. And that made it a lot easier to be bold.
She unbuttoned her jeans and began shimmying out of them. The gritty silt made feeling sexy more of a challenge, but she peeled the denim past her thighs and puddled her jeans on the floor.
Ford’s Adam’s apple bobbed, and her blood turned molten.
With his eyes glued to hers, he unbuttoned and unzipped his own jeans. He shucked them off and kicked them next to hers.
A giggle arose as she glanced at their captive K-9 audience. “I think they’re waiting for our next trick.”
“I can conjure one or two.” Ford scooped her up, his arms binding her upper thighs, and a squeak escaped her as he strode in the direction of the hall.
Thinking of something clever to say with his whiskers lightly abrading the tops of her breasts and his bare skin heating hers proved impossible. All pesky thoughts had been removed to make way for the lust coursing through her.
Violet combed her fingers through his hair, shaking loose some of the crusted mud on the ends.
A door opened to their left, and after Ford had carried her inside, he kicked it closed behind them.
The bathroom ceiling was lower than the hallway’s, and the top of her head skimmed the light fixture. Ford loosened his grip, and she slid down his hard body, her pulse leaping as he groaned.
He swept aside the shower curtain and fumbled with the handles.
Once he’d gotten the water flowing, he spun and cupped her face in his hands. She nearly purred as his thumb dragged across her jaw. “Believe me, sweetheart, I’m aching to get under that hot water with you. But I’m also willing to walk out that door and give you privacy. I don’t want you to feel pressured or for you to do anything you might later regret.”
He was usually so cocky—now, his sincere words and the hint of vulnerability in his voice made her freeze in place.
One beat…
Two…
With deliberate casualness, Violet slipped one bra strap off her shoulder. Then the other.
She reached behind her.
The usual pinching motion didn’t dislodge her bra, so she added her other hand to aid her efforts. “Dammit. I was trying to be all sexy, and this just shows why I can’t pull it off.”
“I’m happy to help.” Ford placed his hands on her hips, twisted her to face the mirror above the sink, and fiddled with the clasp. “The mud’s acting like cement, but don’t you worry, I’ll win this fight.”
The bra came loose and fell to the floor.
Ford placed a hand on the center of her stomach and tugged her against him. His erection pressed into the crease of her butt, and he caught her eye in the mirror. “Look at you. Feel what you’re doing to me. How can you say you’re not sexy?”
The woman peering back at her was a mess. Disheveled hair, dirt-streaked, and carrying a few extra pounds.
