“Whatever,” I mumbled and he again grinned.
Then he turned and sauntered away.
I watched him go thinking he gave the impression my response was all the same to him and then I clocked Bag of Bones watching Navarro move toward the doors to the hotel.
Shit again!
I toweled off, squeezed the water out of my hair, pulled my shirt and shorts over my wet suit, gathered my stuff and hightailed my ass to our room thinking the whole way there that I’d been right to give up on men while the giving up was good. Imagine walking up to a woman you didn’t know but did know was married and propositioning her.
Insane.
I slid in the keycard at our door, waited for the green light, slid it out and walked in. The minute I did I heard the shower going as well as the television blaring. Automatically, my eyes moved to the bathroom door and then I stopped dead.
The bathroom door was open, I had a view to the mirror and reflected in the mirror was Ty in the shower.
That was enough. All the beauty that was Ty, na**d in the shower was enough to make me stand there statue-still and stare in lost but avid fascination but that wasn’t all there was.
Because Ty wasn’t just taking a shower.
He had one powerful arm lifted, hand pressed to the tiled wall, his neck was bent, the water beating against his head, neck and back, his skin was glistening, his eyes were closed, his other fist was wrapped around his c**k and stroking.
And I had it then… indisputable proof that every inch of him was beautiful.
Every inch.
And there were a lot of them.
A lot.
I knew I should back out, go get myself a latte, leave him to his business and come back but I couldn’t move. I couldn’t move because what met my eyes was beautiful and it was so unbelievably sexy, I was instantly turned on more than I’d ever been in my life.
In… my… life.
I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think. I could only see and feel what was happening to my body watching him doing what he was doing. Then I had to fight the overwhelming desire to drop my stuff, pull off my clothes, join him in the shower, wrap my arms around him and press my body to his back while he finished.
Or talk him into finishing a different way.
I got hold of myself, backed up and, as silent as I could, I opened the door and scuttled through.
Then, wet hair, tacky body, wet seeping through my clothes, armful of stuff, I found the nearest coffee cart, bought two lattes and juggled them and my things as I went back to the room.
Then I stood outside and pounded on the door with my foot, shouting, “Hands full, hubby! Help me out!”
I waited approximately three point five seconds before the door opened and Ty stood there in faded jeans and nothing else.
My mouth went dry.
It was then I realized I should probably have gone back and jumped in the pool and, maybe, stayed there for a decade.
Visions dancing in my head, by a sheer miracle I pulled it together enough to push through the door and walk by him all the while babbling.
“I got you a coffee. I need breakfast but before, I need to tell you what went down by the pool and then I need a shower so maybe we should do room service because my hunger is eating through my stomach lining and I could use taking off a couple of pounds but I don’t want my system filled with stomach acid in order to do that.”
I stopped, turned, dumped everything in my arms on the floor by holding my elbows out to the sides then I shoved a hand his way, offering him a takeaway latte.
His eyes were on the stuff now scattered on the floor then they moved to the latte.
“It isn’t fancy,” I declared and his eyes moved from the takeaway cup to mine. “Full fat. Considering the amount of muscle you lug around, your metabolism has to be akin to Superman’s so you can hack full fat. And no syrup because I’ve noticed you have a sweet tooth but I haven’t noticed if you lean toward anything specific, you seem to like it all and you’re a huge badass, I didn’t want to get it wrong and incur disfavor so the basic will just have to do.”