“Rissa?”
I glanced up at the sound of my name coming from that rough voice. “Hi,” I greeted him, feeling surprisingly shy all of a sudden.
Dark espresso eyes skimmed over me from head to toe and it felt as if he had physically touched me the way my skin seemed to suddenly bead with goose bumps and I was unable to repress a shiver. My own eyes were doing some traveling of their own. I’d expected his hair to be wet since I’d heard water running, but it wasn’t. He was still wearing the jeans and T-shirt I’d seen him wearing earlier, both of which fit him perfectly. The T-shirt was stretched over the wide, hard planes of his chest. The jeans hanging slightly off his hips, giving just a tease of a glance of tanned flesh between the hem of his shirt and the top of his old jeans.
“I’m running you a bath, sweetheart.” He crossed to the couch and offered me his hand.
Running me a bath? Oh goodness! I bit my lip, trying to hide my excitement and the way his words had made my heart melt as I put my hand in his big rough one. Long fingers wrapped around my hand, trapping it in his, and he gave a small tug, urging me up. Without a word I let him lead me into what must have been the master bedroom and into the connecting bathroom.
The scent of warm vanilla and honey filled the room as the huge bathtub filled with bubbles came into view. When we reached the side of the tub, Wroth released my hand and turned off the water. When he straightened, he caught me around the waist and pulled me against his hard body. Before I could guess at his intentions, he lowered his head and brushed a soft kiss over my parted lips. Tears burned my eyes at his gentleness. I’d never seen him be this tender in all the years I’d known Wroth. That he was being this way with me didn’t surprise me, but it did make me fall a little deeper for him.
“Take your bath, sweetheart. I’m going to order us an early dinner and we can relax for a few hours before we have to head over for tonight’s show.” His nose nuzzled against my ear, making me tremble with a desire that was starting to incinerate my body from the inside out.
With another soft kiss to my lips, he left me alone in the bathroom. I stood there for a long moment, still savoring the feel of his lips on mine. Without even realizing what I was doing, I lifted my fingers to skim across the slight dampness from his kiss, massaging his essence into them. For several minutes I stood like that, until with a happy giggle I started taking my clothes off.
Sliding into the water was pure nirvana. The water temperature was perfect. Not so hot that it would burn, but just enough to release all the tense muscles that had bunched up over the last few days. The sweet smell of the bubble bath relaxed me further and I dunked my head under the water, enjoying the bath like a little girl might for just a moment.
Lifting my head, I smoothed my wet hair back from my face and wiped water from my eyes. When I could see again, I gasped at the sight standing in front of me. Wroth had returned from ordering room service and had gotten rid of most of his clothes. His boots, socks, jeans and shirt were gone, leaving him standing in front of me in nothing but a pair of black Hanes boxers. Damn, but he should have been the rep for those freaking boxers.
My gaze lingered on the outline of his dick through the cotton material of his underwear. As I watched, my cheeks began to heat with a mixture of embarrassment and need as I witnessed his dick grow with obvious arousal.
“That bath looks big enough for two, sweetheart. Do you care if I join you?” Wroth asked as he moved away from the door.
Unable to form coherent words, I just nodded, then shook my head, then nodded again not sure how to tell him I wanted him to take a bath with me. He chuckled as he climbed into the tub with me, boxers and all. He sat down in the water so that he was facing me and my feet were in his lap. “You’re awfully quiet, Mari,” he grumbled with a knowing grin.
Damn him, I loved that grin. It didn’t often make an appearance and when he did grin, or even smiled, it was like a kick to my heart. I loved when he was happy. Tried my hardest to make sure he smiled and laughed at least once a day when he was home with me.
“I guess I’m just tired,” I excused after finally finding my voice and clearing my throat. “I didn’t sleep very well.” And it was all his fault. The kiss—kisses—from the night before were still haunting me.
Wroth picked up one of my feet and started massaging, digging his thumb into my high arch in a way he knew made my eyes roll back into my head with pleasure. “I didn’t sleep too great either. Some chick kissed me last night and I couldn’t get the feel of her lips on me, her hands on me out of my head.” He rubbed harder and I couldn’t help the groan that escaped me at how good it felt. His words melted away my earlier shyness and I opened my eyes to find his dark ones glued to my face. “I can still taste you, Mari.”
My tongue rubbed over my suddenly dry lips. “I can still taste you, too,” I whispered.
At my confession, he made a growling sound in the back of his throat. I’d learned last night, as my hands had explored his chest under his shirt while we’d kissed for more than half an hour, that he made that sound when he liked what I was doing. That growl did disturbing things to my body. Made liquid heat gather between my legs and my nipples pebble with a need that I was scared he wasn’t going to fulfil.
“I want to taste your lips again, sweetheart. I want to kiss you until your lips are raw and swollen. But I can’t do that right now. Not when you are so deliciously naked under these rapidly fading bubbles. I won’t be able to control myself.” He released my foot, placing it carefully back on his lap. Picking up my other foot, he skimmed my arch over his massive erection, making that bud hidden between my legs, that I’d learned to rub out my orgasms for this man, throb for attention from my fingers. Or his.
With one hand he massaged my arch but the other skimmed up my calf, making my sex clench with need. Without thinking about what I was doing, I let my legs fall open, silently pleading for him to touch me. There. That growling groan escaped him again but he didn’t move higher than my knee before caressing back down to my ankle then repeating the same tortured path. I squirmed, my body on fire and my clitoris pulsing with the beat of my racing heart. I wanted an orgasm so bad right then I would have begged for it.
But why should I beg for it when I could give it to myself?
More heat filled my cheeks as I met his gaze boldly, but I didn’t let my embarrassment keep me from giving my body what it was screaming for. My arms had been resting on the sides of the tub, but I let them fall into the water. My left hand skimmed over my softly rounded stomach and down into the curls I kept neatly trimmed. My fingers combed through the curls, tugging lightly in a way that made my sex clench with need again. The tip of my middle finger moved over my slit and between my lips.