A Lot like Love (FBI/US Attorney #2)(73)

“I like that idea,” he murmured against her skin. He reached up and carefully undid the top button of her shirtdress, seemingly more patient than last time. “But room service will take at least an hour. Which means that we have some time to kill before dinner.”

Her thoughts exactly. “True. I was thinking I’d take a bath and relax for a while.”

His hands stilled on the second button of her shirtdress. “Oh. Sure.”

“I was also thinking that you could come with me.”

Nick cocked his head. “Yeah . . . I’m not exactly a bath kind of guy.” He got a wicked look in his eyes. “But there’s always that outdoor shower.”

Jordan shrugged nonchalantly. Nick McCall had a few too many rules—it was high time he started bending them. “Suit yourself. But if you change your mind, you know where you can find me.” She slid out from his embrace and went over to the bar.

He followed her and leaned against the wall, watching as she poured herself a glass from the half-finished bottle Barrasford Estate had given them when they’d left. Feeling Nick’s gaze on her, she headed across the terrace to the master suite. She hummed to herself as she went into the bathroom and began filling the tub. She set the wineglass on the marble ledge, adjusted the temperature of the water, and added some bath gel. She sipped her wine, letting the water run for a couple minutes before she walked back into the bedroom.

Each room of the bungalow had windows that vertically spanned three-quarters of the wall, which meant she could see across the terrace into the living room. Nick sat on the couch with the TV remote in his hand, watching a basketball game.

Jordan rolled her eyes.

Men.

He looked over and saw her watching him. She turned her back and innocently went about her business. While in front of the window, she unzipped her dress and let it fall to the floor.

She just so happened to be wearing a thong right then.

She kicked the dress aside. Next, she unsnapped her bra—possibly taking a moment longer than necessary to ease the straps off her shoulders—and dropped it to the floor as well. Then she strolled into the bathroom, naked except for her thong and heels.

Inside the bathroom, she dug a clip out of her makeup bag and pulled her hair up. Then she stripped out of her underwear and heels and slid into the steamy water. She grabbed her wineglass, leaned her head against the back of the tub, and silently counted to ten.

She made it to six.

“You didn’t say there would be bubbles.” From the doorway, Nick frowned at the offensive white foam.

Jordan tried not to smile. “Agent McCall . . . imagine seeing you here. Change your mind about the bath?”

“I’m thinking about it.” With his gaze trained on her in the tub, he stepped into the bathroom. He carried the open wine bottle and a glass in one hand.

Jordan watched as he set them both on the ledge of the tub. Without saying a word, he unhooked the gun harness strapped to his calf and set it on the bathroom vanity. Next, he pulled a condom out of his pocket and tossed it next to the wine bottle.

“I see you’re packing heat again.” She lifted one leg out of the bubbles and turned off the faucet with her foot.

Nick’s eyes held on her bare leg, and then traveled up to her br**sts that peeked out of the water.

“And I see that somebody believes she’s calling the shots around here with this bubble bath power play.” He stripped out of his clothes.

Jordan took another sip of wine—needing something to quench her suddenly parched mouth—as Nick stepped into the tub and lowered his naked body into the water. He grabbed her by the ankle and pulled her onto his lap, so that she straddled him.

“So is this your attempt to reassert your authority?” she teased.

He answered her with a kiss that fogged the bathroom mirrors. As their mouths moved together at a slow, languorous pace, her br**sts felt tight and her ni**les peaked, ready for his touch. When she instinctively began to rock forward on his lap, his thick erection settled right between her legs and pressed firmly against her sensitive skin.

Jordan’s hand tipped—she’d forgotten about the glass she held—and the wine nearly spilled on Nick before she righted it. “Almost got you there.” She reached over to set her glass onto the ledge.

He took it from her. “That gives me an idea.” He pressed the rim of the glass against the swell of her left breast and watched her face as his intention sunk in.

Jordan sucked in a breath, the wine-geek in her doing battle with the woman who was very turned on. “That’s . . . a really good wine.”

“And I can’t think of a better pairing.” He tipped the glass, and a small stream of wine flowed down her breast, covering her nipple. “Maybe it’s time I showed you how I like to taste wine.”

She gasped as he lifted her breast to his mouth and sucked. He ran his tongue around the pebbled tip. “Mmm . . . I taste sassiness. And a lot of spice.”

He reached for the glass and poured wine over her other nipple. He set the glass back down and pulled her breast into his mouth. With a quiet moan, she ran her hands over the flexed muscles of his shoulders and arms. She shifted in his lap, so that the tip of his erection was right at the warm, wet entrance between her legs.

He groaned and pulled his mouth off her breast. He dug his fingers in her hair, kissing her hard. “Don’t tempt me, Jordan. You have no idea how much I want to be inside you with nothing between us.”