Page 160 of Beat of Love
Richard? Run a bath for her?
Brandy-Lyn sniggered at the ludicrous idea. “Never.”
“Then he’s an even bigger idiot than I figured.”
“No argument from me,” she mumbled, watching Rafferty march into the bathroom. He seemed genuinely pissed on her behalf. And that amazed her.
A yawn stretched her jaw wide as she looked about the room. Her gaze stopped at the couch and she frowned. There was no way Rafferty would be comfortable on that two-seater. She looked back at the bed. It was huge. They’d easily fit. With space to spare.
But share a bed with the man she craved with every molecule in her body?
Not a good idea. Then again, she was too tired to jump his bones.
Brandy staggered to her suitcase. And blinked. He’d even unzipped it. Saving her the effort. She lifted the lid and dug around, finding her pj’s and toiletry bag. Clutching the items to her chest, she moved to the bathroom.
And stuttered to a stop in the doorway. “Oh my.”
A sweet flowery perfume filled the air.
Bubbles lapped the rim of the bath.
And then there was Rafferty.
A deliciously hot male bending over the bath, agitating the water.
Tight ass. Muscled thighs.
He turned off the taps and stood.
Foam clung to his hands and forearms, and he shook it off.
Shoulder muscles rippled under his form-fitting Henley.
She couldn’t stop a strangled sound escaping her mouth.
He spun and bumped against the side of the bath.
And tumbled back.
Into the bath.
Foam flew up in all directions, and water sloshed over the sides, wetting the floor.
For a beat or two, stunned silence filled the room.
Then Brandy broke into uncontrollable giggles.
And Rafferty swore a blue streak.
He lay half in the bath, his torso submerged, head poking above the bubbles, one leg hooked over the outer edge of the bath, the other mercifully held up above the water.
“At … l-least your b-boots … are d-dry,” she stammered through her laughter.
“Glad you’re enjoying this, Red,” he deadpanned, clamping his hands on the tub’s rim. With a mighty heave, he hauled his body out of the water to sit on the edge.
Her gaze drifted over the soaked muscle-mapping shirt. My, oh my. A delightful sight for sore and tired eyes. How she’d love to peel the material away and let her hands wander over the exposed flesh. Her mouth watered and heat flooded her body. Combined with the billowing steam, she felt hot and uncomfortable. And needy. So very needy. She shifted, clenching her thighs together.
“Red,” Rafferty growled.
