in the bar before they left for their trip. I refuse to think about the reason they went there. Refuse to think about the way Rocker avoided my questions when I texted and wanted to know what was going on. He assured me everything was fine, but his definition and mine probably aren’t the same.
My body tingles with want, the warmth of the water making it damn near impossible to resist slipping my hands below the surface. Even though the wait is killing me, I do my best to resist. Teasing myself lately is all I can get, so I hope to make it last.
Soft music with a seductive backbeat filters in from the speaker in my bedroom, blocking out everything but my time in the tub. I can’t hear the neighbors banging around in their apartment or traffic in the parking lot. This moment is all that exists, and I groan again as my eyes flutter closed and I sink lower in the tub.
“Perfect,” I moan, my fingers trembling on the side of the tub as I let images of my body being ravaged take over my mind.
Scented bubbles lick at my skin, tickling near the tips of my breasts as I gently roll my hips to make the water move a little.
Hands are all over me, touching, teasing, testing my boundaries. A warm mouth laps at the tip of my breast before blowing cold air over my tender skin.
I scream bloody murder when a real finger trails down my shoulder. Water splashes on to the floor as I scramble away.
But it isn’t a monster or Mr. Murphy standing beside the tub ready to kill me for the things I’ve done. Rocker is crouched near the edge, looking down at me in a way that says he’s not the least bit ashamed for scaring me.
“You scared me half to death,” I hiss, my arms instinctively coming up to cover my breasts. The four-inch layer of bubbles keep him from locking his eyes on my lower half.
“You really know how to set the mood,” he whispers, heat filling his eyes as they trail over every exposed inch of my skin.
All the pertinent parts, the areas that men seem to gravitate to are completely covered, but I’ve never felt more exposed in my life.
He’s a seduction artist through and through, and my skin begins to cool, the warmth from the water draining away quickly now that I’m no longer nearly fully immersed.
“Treating yourself?” His fingers tease just inside the tub, scooping up some of the bubbles. The delicate things are a contrast to his big hands, and what’s wrong with me that I find that a turn-on. What am I saying? Every damn thing these days turn me on.
“I like a little pampering before I come,” I tell him brazenly.
He groans, his top teeth digging into his bottom lip, and it’s almost impossible not to make the very same sound because I’m well versed in just what that mouth and those teeth are capable of.
“Is Jinx here?”
His head shakes; his burning eyes never leaving my body. “Just you and me.”
My arms fall away from my chest, and like I’d hoped his attention refocuses on my now exposed breasts. They tighten painfully under his attention.
“You could help,” I offer as I lean back into the position he found me in.
“Need me to wash your back?”
“That would be a good start.”
He must not hate the idea because he has to shift his weight to accommodate the erection growing in his jeans.
“We’re going to be dating.”
“That so?” I trail a finger over my collarbone.
“Honestly, it’s just a formality since you’re already mine.”
Are distracted words truthful thoughts?
“I feel like I’ve missed part of the conversation.”
“Hmm?” His hand clenches, bubbles dripping between his fingers, but he doesn’t make a move to reach out to me.
“I’m yours? This isn’t the fifties. Am I supposed to giggle and be grateful?”
“I can easily make you say thank you.”
His head isn’t where I need it to be for this serious of a conversation, but I’d be a fool to start that argument now, not when he’s looking at me like he’s seconds away from devouring me.
“So, we’re going to date?”
“Oh, yeah. So many dates.” His fingers skate up my arm, and the man might as well have his head between my legs with how good his touch feels.
“Does dating mean we don’t get to mess around?”
If he says that he’s going to wait, I may end up in jail for