Hidden Away (KGI #3)(83)

“We can’t make love, you idiot. What you need is a bath and food and rest. You should climb in the tub and soak while I go fix us something to eat. I thought I’d make your favorite. Meat, meat and more meat.”

“Mmmm, that sounds good. But here’s what I think. I think you should take that bath with me and then we’ll both figure out something to fix.”

She stared at him for a minute and then past him toward the bathroom. He could see she was tempted. He pulled her in closer and murmured in her ear. “You, me, lots of hot water. I’ll wash your back. And your front. And all parts in between.”

She shivered delicately just as he sank his teeth into her lobe, nipping with just enough force to excite her.

“And just so you know, Sarah, I’m going to make love to you. I don’t give a damn if it kills me in the process. I’m going to have you. You’re going to sleep in my bed, in my arms, your skin against mine. I want the last thing you feel before you go to sleep is me inside you, and the first thing you know when you wake up.”

She made a soft, breathy, utterly feminine sound as she leaned into him, and he went painfully hard. God, but he wanted to touch her. He wanted to run his tongue from the tip of her nose to her toes and taste every delectable inch of her.

God, he had to quit or he was going to come in his pants.

“I’ll go run the water,” she said. “You sit down and rest while you wait.”

He grinned at her bossiness. “Yes, ma’am.”

Sarah pushed at him to get him to sit on the bed. When she was satisfied that he was comfortable and off his feet, she went into the bathroom. Her eyes widened when she took in the huge tub on an elevated platform. It was the centerpiece of the entire bathroom and would easily fit more than two people. Maybe Rio went in for more than one when it came to female companionship.

She laughed softly at the idea of the dark-eyed, quiet man being more frolicsome when it came to his private life.

On impulse, she searched the drawers for matches or a lighter and was delighted to find a long-stemmed candle lighter. She started the water running and then went around to light the candles placed at random spots around the bathroom. It seemed a girly thing to do but then a man owned this entire house, and the candles weren’t girly smelling. The scent was more earthy and masculine. It reminded her of the outdoors.

She stood back to survey her handiwork and then let out a groan. It looked like she was bent on seduction. Then she chuckled. She could hardly be accused of seduction when Garrett had made it abundantly clear that he had every intention of making love to her.

She rubbed her hands up and down her arms as she watched the water grow deeper in the tub. She wasn’t sure what had her on edge more. The idea of making love to Garrett or the fact that she wasn’t more wary of giving herself completely and wholly to a man. Of trusting him.

She shrugged. The fact was, she wasn’t afraid of Garrett. He’d been achingly tender and up front with her. He hadn’t hidden from the mutual attraction that flared like a brush fire between them. She cherished the honesty between them, and she trusted him—in a way she’d never thought to trust another man.

After putting out towels and arranging the soaps and shampoo just so, she turned the water off and went back for Garrett.

She found him flat on his back, eyes closed, and for a moment she stood there, watching him. Absorbing everything about him. His broad chest rose up and down with his breaths and he looked oddly vulnerable, a fact she found extremely endearing.

She eased onto the bed and leaned over him, letting her hair fall to his shoulder. She rubbed one finger down his jawline, and his eyelids slitted open. He watched her with lazy regard as she ran her finger over his lips.

“Bath’s ready,” she murmured. “Need help up?”

“I could use help undressing,” he said, an unholy gleam in his eyes.

“Of course you do,” she muttered, but a smile hovered at the corners of her mouth.

She backed off the bed and watched as he rolled to the edge and put his feet down. Unsure of whether to help him or not, she waited and let him walk ahead of her.

“This is nice,” he said as he looked around.

“Not too girly?”

He turned to look at her. “Nope, not too girly at all. As long as you like it, I like it.”

He wasted no time stripping off his shirt. She winced when she saw the multitude of bruises that colored his abdomen. He looked like an Easter egg. When he started to shimmy out of his pants, she turned away and then shook her head at the absurdity of the action. She glanced back to see a prime view of his backside as he climbed over the edge into the water.

Damn but the man was built like a brick house. All hard lines, lean at the waist and hips, broad at the shoulders and a muscled back that made her mouth water. When he turned to lower himself in the water, she saw the rippled, discolored tight abdomen and the dark hair at his groin. And even at a state of semi erection, the man was impressive.

Even as large as the tub was, he seemed to fill every inch. He sank into water and stretched out with an appreciative groan. “Damn but this feels good.”

Steam rose from the water—she’d been sure to make it hot—and he leaned his head back and closed his eyes. Unsure of what she was supposed to do—okay so she knew, but she felt damn awkward—she piddled with her shirt.