Page 33 of Luca
Up close, she smells like clean skin and expensive soap, her hair slicked back and dripping.
I crowd her back against the tile. "You always dance naked when I'm not home?"
Her lips smile. "Only when the music's good."
I let my hand trail up her arm, slow enough to make her shiver, then push her wrists up over her head until they rest against the wall. She doesn't fight.
"I should've come home sooner," I say, my mouth brushing her ear. "Could've enjoyed the whole performance."
The bass thrums through the walls. My shirt sticks to her stomach where I press against her. The water runs over us, too hot, but neither of us moves away.
I tilt her chin and kiss her. Tasting water and heat and that smug little smile she wears like armor. She parts her lips immediately, letting me in.
When I pull back, she's breathing harder, pupils wide.
I lower my mouth to her throat, biting just enough to make her gasp, then dragging my tongue over the mark. My hands slide down her sides, over her hips, and I lift her easily, pinning her to the wall.
She locks her legs around my waist. "I thought you had an important meeting."
"I did," I say, kissing the corner of her mouth. "Then I decided I had better things to do."
The music shifts to a heavier beat. She rocks her hips once, testing, and I tighten my grip.
"You like putting on shows?" I ask.
"Depends on the audience."
I take her mouth again, deeper this time, one hand sliding up into her wet hair to hold her there while the other grips her thigh. The water's so hot it's almost scalding, steam thick enough to make the air hard to breathe.
When I finally break the kiss, I drag my lips to her ear. "Next time you dance make sure I get a front row seat."
She's still pinned to the wall, legs locked tight around my waist, her skin slick and hot from the water.
I don't move right away. I make her wait. Let her feel my breath against her mouth while the bass from that damn song rattles through the walls.
Her fingers twitch against my shoulders like she's deciding whether to hold on or push me away. I press harder, making the choice for her.
"Are you always this reckless when you're alone?" I drag my mouth over her jaw.
She laughs, low in her throat. "You weren't supposed to be home."
"That's not an answer."
I run my palms down her arms, slow enough to make her goosebumps rise, then skim them over her ribs and under the curve of her breasts. She's warm and soft everywhere, and she doesn't flinch, not even when I let my thumbs brush deliberately over her nipples.
Her breath catches—barely—and I catch it in my mouth with another hard kiss.
The water is pounding against my back, plastering my shirt to me, soaking her until the scent of her shampoo is all over my skin. I grip the nape of her neck, holding her still while I take my time tasting her, like I've got the whole day to map every inch of her mouth.
When I finally pull back, I keep my hand in her hair, tugging just enough to bare her throat. I drag my teeth along it, slow and deliberate, then bite down hard enough to make her gasp.
She squirms against me. I press her tighter to the wall.
"You were dancing," I remind her, my lips brushing the mark I just made. "Like you wanted someone to watch. Why?"
"Maybe I did." Her voice is softer now, threaded with something she's trying to hide.
I shift my hand to her hip, my fingers digging in. "Then maybe you're going to finish the show for me."
