Midnight Exposure (Midnight #1)(62)

Holy—

“I’m R. S. Morgan.” Reed stepped toward the table. His hand settled on the wood.

Oh my God. Reed was R. S. Morgan. If the media found out that R. S. Morgan was a man once fingered by the press for murdering his wife, he’d never have a moment’s peace. No wonder he kept a low profile. He’d already been skewered by reporters once.

“I didn’t want any more secrets between us.” Reed turned and pressed his body against hers again. Blood rushed in her ears, drowning out both her shock and her conscience. She should tell him that she’d come here to expose him. But did it matter? Jason could go scratch. There was no way she was outing Reed.

In fact, she was never going to take tabloid pictures again. Seeing what the media had done to Reed’s life hammered the offensiveness of her occupation home. She was exactly what he despised the most.

Since she was done with all that, what did it matter?

No secrets.

But would he forgive hers? Could she take the risk? What if the fact that she’d come here on a tabloid assignment to uncover his identity ruined everything?

Regret passed through her like a tremor.

“I’m sorry. It’s cold in here. Let’s go back in the house.” He tugged her back through the door and across the frozen yard. All the way back to the master bathroom. They shed their outerwear en route, leaving a trail of coats and boots on the hardwood. The bathroom was still steamy and it only took seconds for hot water to pour from the showerhead. Reed took that brief span of time to step closer. His hand slid up her arm.

Jayne’s heart thudded against her breastbone. Hunger shot through her belly. Her hands clenched in the loose knit of his sweater and pulled him closer. Heat from his body rose through the wool. Jayne leaned closer and breathed him in. He smelled like soap and man. The hint of smoke reminded her of the panic she’d felt when she’d thought he had died in the fire.

But here he was. Alive. Breathing. Touching her. Being touched.

Everything else faded before the wonder of the moment.

His hands slid to her shoulders, smoothed her biceps and forearms, and settled on her hips. He grasped the hem of her sweatshirt and slowly raised it over her head, dropping it to the floor at her feet. She wasn’t wearing anything underneath. She hadn’t had a chance to change into her own clothes since they’d retrieved her things at the inn.

His eyes roamed over her breasts. Her nipples puckered as if he’d touched them.

But he didn’t. Not yet.

He unbuttoned her jeans, dropped to one knee, and drew them down her thighs. A breath hissed out of his mouth. Since she’d drawn the line at borrowing boxers, she’d gone commando there as well.

Inches from her sensitive skin, he inhaled and closed his eyes as if the smell of her was intoxicating, irresistible, and delicious. He exhaled, the breath hot on her thighs as he licked his lips.

“I wanted to worship you the first time I saw you.” Green eyes, dark and intense with desire, looked up at her. “I’d never seen anything so beautiful.”

Reed moved down, sliding the jeans to her ankles. He cupped each foot and gently worked the fabric over her heel. The jeans joined the rest of Jayne’s clothes on the floor.

Reed’s eyes caressed her from her feet up, sliding up her legs, pausing on the juncture of her thighs, before roaming up to her breasts.

Steam filled the room as he stripped off his shirt and pants without the finesse he’d shown disrobing Jayne. He stood naked in front of her in seconds, all sleek muscles and smooth skin on display for her. But he gave her no time to savor the view. He reached under the vanity for a condom and set it on the top of the shower door. His hand settled on her waist and he steered her into the shower.

Jayne ducked under the spray. Hot water cascaded over their bodies as Reed pulled her close. His hard body pressed against her breasts, belly, and thighs. She pressed a kiss to his chest and tasted smoke. Her hand closed around a bar of soap. She leaned back a few inches and slid it across his chest. With soapy hands, she explored his body, washing away all traces of the morning’s horrors from his skin. Reed’s head tipped back, and a low rumble of pleasure came from deep in his chest.

When she brought the bar to her own body, his hand closed over her hand. “Let me.” Hoarseness invaded his voice.

Callused hands lathered every inch of her body. He knelt to massage her arches and slide his fingers between her toes. Then he worked his way up her legs, kneading her calves, sliding up the inside of her thighs and around to cup her buttocks. A moan bubbled from her throat.

Jayne’s legs parted for him, hot and aching for his touch.

The heat and his hands mesmerized her. She could think of nothing but the feel of his fingers on her skin, anticipating where he’d touch her next. Every beat of her heart pushed desire through her veins like a drug. She couldn’t see. She couldn’t hear anything but her own blood pounding in her head, pulsing between her thighs. Only he could make her blood hum, her body turn limp and helpless with need. For him. Only him.

His hands slid around her hips to her belly and moved up to cup her breasts. His fingers teased her already hard nipples. She splayed her hands on his pectorals. His heart pounded against her palms. She slid her hand down his flat stomach.

A low groan sounded from his throat as she closed her hand around the hard length of him. Reed trembled against her. “Jayne.”