Page 191 of Skate the Line

Rhodes skims his nose down mine at the same time his fingers knead my back muscles. I shiver, and he pulls back slightly to look into my eyes.

“Damn,” he mutters.

Then his mouth is on mine, and I suddenly feel like I’mhis.

Fifty-Six

RHODES

This wasn’t supposedto happen, but it is, and I’m too drunk with her mouth on mine to stop it.

She’s in my arms, slick from the moisture of the shower, and she tastes too sweet for me to resist. The night has lasted a year. I’ve been in two different time zones, felt an entire lifetime pass, but this makes it worth all the worry I felt on that plane ride home.

I graze every part of her body with the palms of my hands, memorizing her curves, before reaching up to grab the shower head. With the pad of my finger, I tilt her chin so I can run the water through her hair. I said I’d take care of her, and that’s what I intend to do.

After lathering the shampoo, I slowly massage it into her hair, careful not to tug on the strands and give her an even bigger headache.

“That feels nice.”

Even her voice is a temptation. She drags her breaths out, and I crave to feel them against my neck.

“Good,” I murmur, massaging my fingers through the suds. “Tip your head again, baby.”

She does what I say without protest.

Finally.

Water runs over her scalp until her silky dark strands are clear of shampoo, and I grab the body wash.

This is going to take some serious willpower.

I turn her around, and she peers up at me with a hazy look on her face. She blinks through the beads of water on her face, and as soon as my sudsy hands touch her, I know we’re fucked.

She gasps and backs herself to the tiled wall for support.

She doesn’t need the wall, though.

She’s got me.

My hands glide over her shoulders, and I slowly rub both of her arms before moving to her chest.

I wish I were a better man and could keep my eyes to myself, but I can’t.

Her breasts beg for my attention.

I dig my heels into the floor of the shower to ground myself, but it doesn’t work well enough to keep my dick from hardening. She’s irresistible, and the hot little gasp that slips from her lips eggs me on.

Getting her off is taking care of her, right?

I argue with myself while sliding my hand in between her cleavage. When her nipples pucker, I smile to myself. Getting her off is most definitely taking care of her.

“You want to be touched, Sunshine?”

I rest my hand against her stomach until she gives me the go-ahead. I’ll do anything she wants, even if that means not touching her there.

“Please,” she begs.

Anything for you.

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