Page 11 of Bunker Down, Baby

And oh, baby, he’s not unaffected.

I let out a slow, wicked hum. “Well, well, well.”

His whole body stiffens.

I grin.

I knew he’d crack.

Even a good doctor can’t hide biology.

I smooth my soapy hands over his shoulders, squeezing, sliding over tense muscle.

“See?” I whisper. “Told you you’d enjoy it.”

His breath shudders.

“This does not mean I’m on board,” he says, low, rough, almost gritted through his teeth.

I purr, pressing closer, mouth near his ear. “Oh, baby.” I squeeze his arms, dragging my fingers down his biceps. “Your body says otherwise.”

And that?

That’s when he finally breaks.

Chapter Three

Evan

My head tips back against the tile, water streaming down my face. My entire body is too tight, muscles coiled, breathing unsteady.

I can feel her watching me.

Maple. Maple Grace Fucking Monroe.

She’s so fucking close.

I should shove her back. Should say something sharp and final and stop this before it starts.

But then her hands move.

Soft. Slow.

Trailing soap over my shoulders, down my chest, lingering just long enough to make my skin prickle with heat.

She hums, dragging her palms lower, watching me like she’s memorizing every inch of me.

I growl.

My hands snap to her wrists, tight, hard, and she lets out a soft, startled sound.

Good.

She should be startled.

Because I am one second away from pinning her to this wall and taking back every ounce of control she’s stolen from me.

Her breath comes quicker now, but that smile? That wicked, dangerous little smile?

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