Page 67 of Nave
In nothing but a low-slung towel that was a bit too small for his frame. I watched as a bead of water slipped down from his hair, gliding down his back.
Did I have an urge to go over there and lick it?
Yes, yes, I did.
He noticed me first, wincing.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you. I just wanted to grab a shower and clothes before I head out.”
“Out?”
“Of the room,” he clarified. “To crash.”
I’d been wrong earlier.
About the moment passing.
Because here it was again.
“You don’t have to crash somewhere else.” I scooted back on the bed to make room for him.
“I’m not asking to—”
“You’re not asking. I’m offering.” I paused, shooting him a smile. “I see why you like that phrase so much now.”
A deep, rumbling laugh moved through him at that.
“You’re sure?”
I wasn’t sure the last time I’d been so certain of anything in my life.
I shifted up onto my knees and crept to the end of the bed. Reaching out, I grabbed his wrist and pulled him toward me.
And when he was close enough, my hands grew bold enough to slide down his sides, to grab the material of the towel, to pull it down until it pooled on the floor at his feet.
“I’m sure,” I said as he sucked in a surprised breath.
My hands flattened on his bare hips as his lifted to frame my face.
Then he was lowering his face toward mine.
The kiss stole the breath from my lungs, making a little shiver course through me.
My hands slipped upward, feeling the muscles in his stomach twitch and tense under my touch.
Nave’s lips slanted over mine, his tongue teasing the seam until mine sighed open, inviting him in.
He deepened the kiss as my arms went around his neck, pressing our chests together. With nothing but a thin tank top on, I could feel the heat of him against me, the hard lines against my soft curves.
Nave’s hand shifted to the back of my neck, his fingers tangling in my hair.
Against him, my nipples twisted into tightened points of need that had a low rumble vibrating through him.
Against me, I could feel the thick, hard press of his need—as demanding as the clawing ache deep inside me.
One of my hands moved down, sliding over his ribs, then his hip, and, finally, between us, closing my hand around his length.
A groan escaped him, making him break the kiss. His forehead pressed to mine, his breathing going fast and shallow as my hand slid down him, reveling in his soft skin, in the way his hips bucked to drive himself deeper into my touch.
