Page 85 of Heaven, Texas (Chicago Stars 2)

“If you had anything to hide, you wouldn’t have brought the subject up.”

“That’s exactly right. Now turn around, and let me rub your shoulders.”

Without waiting for her to move, he tugged gently on her wrists and turned her so that she slid between his open legs. She felt the muscles of his chest against her back. His hips shifted, and she realized he was fully aroused. A thrill of awareness shot through her, immediately followed by a rush of guilt.

“Hand me that soap,” he whispered, his voice as gentle as a caress, as his thumbs worked the muscles in her shoulders. “It’s on your right.”

“No, I—”

To her surprise, his teeth sank into the curve of her neck. He nipped her there, not painfully, but with enough strength to remind her that he was in control. She remembered that stallions frequently nipped the mares they were covering, sometimes even bringing blood. At the same time, a dim voice told her that she only needed to rise from the water for him to let her go. But the voice was too amorphous for her to hold on to as his hands glided over her shoulders and palmed her breasts.

“Lean back,” he whispered. “Let me play with you.”

He must have fetched the soap himself because his palms were slick with it and the sensations he aroused so exquisite her eyes stung with tears. She didn’t want to betray Hoyt. She didn’t want it to feel so good, but it had been too long, and as his warm, soapy hands circled her breasts, she couldn’t resist. She would permit this intimate caress for a moment, and then she would draw away.

Round and round his hand traveled, coming closer and closer to the tender centers. Her breathing quickened. He brushed her nipples, then plucked them between his fingers and began massaging them as he had her toes. The sensation was delicious and familiar, like a favorite song heard again after a very long time. She had forgotten how wonderful this felt. Her body grew heavier, more languid, until it seemed to be melting into his.

He abandoned her nipples and returned to making l

azy circles around her breasts, gently teasing until he once again reached the tips, then plucking and pulling. She squirmed against him. He circled again. This time she moaned when he reached her nipples and rolled them between his fingers.

Her breathing was coming heavier now, and her body felt swollen with arousal. Kissing her ear, he lifted her up onto his thighs, her back still against his chest. She felt his lips tugging on her lobe. He began to suck there, on the flesh and the diamond stud, and she shuddered at the unfamiliar sensation. She couldn’t remember Hoyt ever doing that to her, but when she tried to recall if he had, her thoughts kept scattering.

He spread his legs and, in the process, wedged hers open with his knees. His hands slid down her breasts to her inner thighs. She didn’t understand what he was doing as he rotated both of them, pulling her thighs wider, moving their hips closer to the edge of the tub. And then she felt the powerful jet of water gushing into her.

She gasped and nearly jumped off his lap, trying to get away from the surge of water shooting out of one of the nozzles set into the side of the tub.

She heard the devil’s laughter in her ear, soft and seductive. “Relax, Suzy. Enjoy.”

And, God forgive her, she did enjoy.

He played with her breasts, nipped at her ears and shoulders with his teeth, sucked at the tender flesh of her neck. Their bodies shifted so that sometimes the surging jet of water pummeled her, sometimes him. She lost all sense of herself, didn’t even think to object when he pushed himself inside her from behind and let the water work at them where they were joined. She tried to move on him, but he wouldn’t allow it. And each time she was about to go over the edge, he shifted the position of her body just enough so that it didn’t happen.

She began to sob. “Please . . .”

“What do you want?” he whispered, as he pushed deeper.

“Please, let me . . . Let me . . .”

“Do you want more, Suzy? Is that what you want? You want more?”

His gentle croon fueled her excitement. “Yes . . . Yes . . .” She was begging him, but it had been so long that she couldn’t stop herself.

His voice was soft and gruff and tender. “Not yet, love. Not yet.”

She sobbed as he lifted her off him. She tried to turn in his arms, but he stood. In the dim light, she could see his silhouette and the hard, thick thrust of him. Instinctively, she reached up and clasped him, shameless and brazen, forgetting that this man wasn’t her husband, that she hadn’t wanted this.

He groaned and caught her wrist. “Wait. Just a little while longer.”

He stepped from the water and slipped his robe over his wet body. Without bothering to fasten it, he pulled her out and wrapped her in a towel, then picked her up in his arms and carried her into the bedroom, as if she were a virgin going into her bridal bower.

She turned her head into his shoulder as he walked into the dimly lit room. She didn’t want to see him, didn’t want to remember who he was and who she was, and that she was about to betray her husband. What was she doing in a stranger’s arms hovering on the brink of sexual oblivion?

“No light.” She needed the darkness to hide the shame she felt for letting this man arouse her to such a state where she couldn’t help herself.

He stopped walking. She lifted her head to gaze at him and saw that his hair was wet and rumpled, his expression unreadable.

She expected him to put her on the bed, but instead, he carried her in the opposite direction, toward a door she hadn’t noticed earlier. She gazed up at him questioningly, but he wasn’t looking at her. With his foot, he pushed opened the door and carried her inside.

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