Page 161 of Beat of Love
Her eyes locked with his.
Matching heat blazed back at her.
Take the leap, Brandy.
She stepped closer. “You know, if you wanted to share my bath, all you had to do was ask.”
His eyes flared, burning with sudden fire. He swallowed hard, Adam’s apple bobbing
Another step brought her within touching distance.
He widened his legs.
She walked into the gap.
He settled his hands on her hips.
Brandy threaded her fingers through his spiky hair, marveling at how soft it felt. She let her touch linger, tracing the edges of the ink showing through.
Rafferty dropped his forehead to her chest. “Red.”
One word, three letters, a single syllable.
Yet she felt that roughly uttered word all the way to her core.
And with his long exhalation, warm breath penetrated the cotton fabric, heating her skin, pebbling her nipples. Dampening her panties. “Raff,” she groaned, digging her fingers into his scalp.
He lifted his head and met her stare. “This will change things between us,” he continued in the brusque tone.
“I know,” she whispered.
Rafferty dropped his hands, stood, took hold of the bottom of his shirt, and peeled it up. It was wet and unwieldy, and Brandy helped him drag it down his arms. It fell to the floor with a thump.
Scars crisscrossed taut pectoral muscles and washboard abs, and tears formed at the thought of the pain he had endured.
He’d almost lost his life due to those wounds.
Brandy blinked the moisture away, choosing instead to linger on the colorful wing inked over his heart. It wasn’t the first time she had seen the tattoo — Sullivan had an identical one — but this one was inked onRafferty’sskin. She traced the letters S-i-n-e-a-d beneath the wing. “I am so grateful you made it back from that fucking jungle,” she whispered.
“Me, too,” he whispered back.
He fiddled with the bottom of her shirt. “You sure?” he asked
“Yes.” Brandy took a step back and stripped the shirt from her body. Sitting on the closed toilet lid, she shucked her boots, and watched Rafferty follow suit. He had some trouble with his waterlogged jeans, whereas hers peeled from her legs effortlessly.
“Hot damn, Red.”
A blush infused her skin at the reverence in his voice. She never worried what people thought about her figure. She enjoyed her food and made sure to include enough healthy choices to counter the occasional lapse into junk options. And her active lifestyle prevented the extra pounds shifting from plump to obese. But the admiration as his gaze swept over her pleased her immensely. Brandy grinned. “You’re not too bad yourself,” she said.
Not too bad. Lie of the century. There was not an ounce of extra flesh on his body. Her eyes roamed, settling on the substantial bulge behind the black boxers. And that bulge … well, it bulged more.
He growled. Stalked closer. “I did not expect silk and lace,” he said, tracing the edge of her bra with a featherlight touch. “Especially in red.”
She was surprised (and a lot disappointed) when he dropped his arm. Her nipples strained against the confines the lace he admired, aching for his touch.
“So,” he drawled, “keep undies on? Or not?”
Keep …?What?“I haveneverbathed in underwear.”
