The Renegade (The Moorehouse Legacy #3)(31)

It had started on that trip. That trip she and Reese had taken with him to the Bahamas. That trip when she’d caught him in the cabin by mistake. She’d gone below deck to get a drink, thinking she and Reese were alone on the boat. Alex had emerged from the bathroom, beautifully naked, droplets of water clinging to the smooth skin of his back. He’d looked over his shoulder, his tattoo shifting as he did, his eyes narrowing as he’d caught her red-handed.

He must have seen something in her face that day. And that was why he’d left the boat at the next port.

No wonder the guy didn’t want her around. Alex had honor. He wouldn’t stand for being ogled by his best friend’s wife.

Oh…hell.

Although, it wasn’t as if she would ever have acted on her attraction. She’d taken her wedding vows very seriously, all of them. But Alex couldn’t have known that.

Opening her eyes, she looked at the soap and the shampoo he used. As she pictured him standing naked where she was, she knew she had to get back to Gray’s right away.

She was so much better off being angry at Alex, she thought. Because now, after she’d spent two hours in the cold, and then been rescued by the man, she was feeling vulnerable. And vulnerable was not good, not around him.

When she got out of the shower, she looked around for a towel and couldn’t find one. She cracked the door open a little. Alex was sitting at his desk, bent over sailboat plans. She noticed he’d taken off the cast.

“Excuse me, Alex?”

“Yeah?” His voice was not encouraging.

“Do you have a towel I could use?”

She thought she heard him curse under his breath as the chair was pushed back.

He went to the duffels on the floor, pulled a navy blue square from one of them, and snapped it so it unfolded. She put her hand out, expecting him to throw the thing over.

Instead he brought it to her.

“Thanks. I’ll get out of your hair—”

She pulled on the towel a little. He didn’t let go.

Her eyes lifted to his. “Alex?”

He said nothing.

A long silence stretched out between them, and she had the vague sense they were on the brink of something.

“Alex?”

He didn’t answer her. Instead, he pushed the door open with his shoulders and came into the bathroom, holding the towel up to her body. As he shut them in together, she squeezed back into the shower stall because it was either that or she would be on him like another set of clothes.

Mist swirled around as he let her take hold of the towel. Then he reached up and pulled her hair out of the knot she’d put it in.

“Alex,” she whispered. “What are you doing?”

He lifted his hand and cupped her chin. In a slow sweep, his thumb brushed over her lower lip.

Her body came alive, heat scorching her bones, incinerating common sense. She stared up at him, unable to move as he loomed over her. His face was impassive, made of stone, but she could sense the coiled need in him, the powerful sexual drive churning in his blood.

His thumb pressed into her mouth, penetrating her as he tightened his hold on her chin. He pushed in and out, caressing her, taking her, and her body responded as if it were his hips, not his thumb, her core, not her mouth. She swayed, breath leaving her in a rush, her heart pounding.

A feeling of total dislocation overcame her. She couldn’t understand how he’d ended up in the bathroom with her. Why he was touching her as he was. How this change had occurred.

But there were two things she didn’t question. His need. Her response.

“Do you want this?” he asked roughly.

“This” was crazy. Confusing. A total turnaround for him and a revelation for her. But yes, she did, she wanted him.

Cass replied the only way she could. She pulled her lips in tight and sucked his finger.

With a low growl, he slid his thumb from her mouth and leaned forward. Her lips parted, but at the last moment he veered to the side and found her neck. His teeth closed gently on the side of her throat and then he licked where he’d nipped her. Her head fell back as his strong arms wound around her and pulled her against him.

He was so tall he had to bend down to stay at her throat, and she bowed with him. She felt the broad expanse of his chest against hers. His hard belly. His thighs.

And between his legs, his thick arousal.

She was shocked that he wanted her. But then his hands started moving over her and she stopped thinking. His lips nibbled their way down to her collarbone, traveling, nuzzling. She grabbed on to his shoulders.

“Cassandra,” he said against her shoulder. “If you don’t tell me to stop, right now, I’m going to finish this.”

His voice was totally level. She didn’t know how he managed it. She was starting to pant.

Did she want this to happen? she thought. Was she ready to make love with someone else?

With Alex, of all people?

His hands dipped to her hips and squeezed, sending a lash of heat to the very core of her. Going on instinct, she wrapped a leg around one of his, rubbing herself against him. He groaned, a low rumble in his chest, and pulled back.

“Tell me to stop, Cassandra, or I’m going to take you to that bed outside.”

She hesitated. And then whispered, “So take me.”

He seemed to pale, as if her answer was the last one he’d expected. But then he opened the door. The rush of cool air cleared out most of the mist and did nothing for her brain. She was still floating in crazed disbelief, the whole experience having the hazy patina of a dream.