Avenged (Altered #2)(51)

“We have time.” Sleep. I’ll watch over you.

Of course he would. It was Nick.

Besides, her eyelids were heavy. A short nap, that’s what she needed. Tucked in the crook of his arm, his hard body behind her, she allowed herself to relax, truly relax, for maybe the first time in months.

As her eyes closed and she drifted, floating, his thought laced its way through her mind. It was a whisper. Half asleep, she wasn’t sure if it was real or if she wanted it to be real.

I am yours…





Chapter Fifteen


Kitty stirred against him fifteen minutes later. She stretched, and damned if the movement didn’t awaken every bit of longing he’d been trying to tamp down since watching her break apart in his arms.

Her eyes opened, those icy blue eyes, and he smiled into her sleepy face. “Hey.”

“Hey, yourself.” She shifted away to see him better. Then she seemed to notice that she wasn’t wearing any clothing. A pretty flush stained her cheeks, and she reached for the sheet. “Um… Well…”

He snagged her hand, bringing it to his lips. “Stop.” He kissed it and shifted away. He wanted to give her privacy. But secretly, having her close, with no clothes on, made him want to put his hands on her again. They didn’t have time for that. Martins would be here in an hour and he wanted them to be ready.

Throwing his legs over the bed, he propped his elbows on his knees and ran his hands over his hair. Still painfully aroused, he stared at the shabby commercial carpeting and gave himself a good old-fashioned pep talk. Get it together, Degrassi. Some self-control.

He sucked in a few steadying breaths, trying not to think about her behind him.

Naked.

He squeezed his eyes shut. The image of her writhing under him was burned there at the back of his eyelids. He did his best to keep his voice light. “Why don’t you grab a quick shower?”

Visions of her assailed him. Kitty, standing under the spray, her long hair wet down her back, her lithe limbs and smooth belly… He gritted his teeth. Goddamn it. Pull it together.

He waited for her to move, to get up, to retreat and leave him to his wanting.

But her soft hand curved over his shoulder…and then she was full against his back, her breasts pressed against him, her arms around his neck.

He sucked in a breath and leaned his head back, his eyes still closed. God, yeah. The play of her fingers along his chest was both bliss and pain. “God, babe. You have to stop.”

“No.” She stepped around to stand in front of him and shook her head. “I want you to come with me.”

He glanced up at her, all long legs and small, soft curves. A grin tugged at his lips. “Anywhere, babe. But we better not go far, dressed like this.”

“We’ll shower. Together. You and me.” She tugged at his hand. “Come with me.”

Unable to deny her anything, he followed her into the bathroom. His gaze kept falling on the curve of her ass.

She turned on the water, waving her fingers under the spray to check the temperature. When it passed her inspection, she flipped the switch and the shower turned on. Stepping in, she turned and reached for him.

He followed her like a thirsty man to, well, water.

When they faced each other, the shower raining on them, their eyes met. Though she’d guided him here, her gaze held uncertainty.

Times like this, she melted him.

His heart tightening in his chest, he ran his hands up and down her gooseflesh-covered arms. “I assume you needed help?” he offered lightly, not wanting to spook her. Letting her know that he’d do as little or as much as she wanted.

She had to know that he would never ask any more from her than she was willing to give.

That he had fallen in love with her.

Her eyes flared, but he didn’t say any more. He refused to call the thought back.

Instead, standing there together, naked, in a crummy hotel’s bathroom, he reached for her, and she came into his arms. They stood under the warm spray together, her cheek on his shoulder and his chin on her head.

He could have stayed like that forever, but they didn’t have much time. Pulling back, he reached for the trial size container of shampoo.

“Turn around,” he instructed, his voice huskier than usual. “Let me do your hair.” He squirted the soap into his hands, and she did as he asked. He lathered her long hair, thankful to be out of the full force of her gaze. Without her eyes on him, he admired her as he rubbed the soap along the length of her hair, and then massaged her scalp until her head fell back and her neck loosened. He took the bar of soap and rubbed it along her back, her arms, down the curves of her backside and legs. He wrapped his arms around her, to wash her front. Then, gently, he guided her under the water, helped to rinse the suds from her.

When she turned, the color was high on her cheeks, and her eyes were heavy with desire.

She was perfect.

“Now, you.” She took the shampoo from him, and he ducked his head to allow her better access.

As her fingers played through his hair, he closed his eyes. God, he loved how she touched him. Straightforward, but not forceful. The slightest bit shy. Like her.

She stepped backward, guiding him into the water and helping him rinse the shampoo out. Then, with her eyes shiny on his, she dropped to her knees in front of him.

“Kitty?” His voice was deep, rough, and full of gravel. Then he closed his eyes. His head dropped back on his shoulders, and he steadied himself with his hands, one under the showerhead and the other on the wall to his right.