“By all means, if you want a better view, come closer.”
“I wasn’t watching,” she squeaked, shutting her eyes again.
“Of course not.” He soaped his arms and legs, the water rolling down his skin in rivulets. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her peek again.
“Lucia,” he said, his voice low, seductive.
“I wasn’t!”
“Come here.”
“No, Alex. My brother is just next door!” she hissed.
“I just want you to wash my back.”
“Wash your—” She sat up. “Men!”
He grinned and waited for her to protest further, but instead she rose, leaving the sheet behind, and stomped over to kneel beside the tub.
“Oh, all right. Give me the soap,” she said huffily. He chuckled, handing it to her.
LUCIA RUBBED THE SOAP across her palms, lathering it richly, then glossed her slippery hands across Alex’s back. He leaned forward, and her knees were instantly soaked by the discharge of water. She ignored it, running her hands over his muscles, then massaging his shoulders.
He groaned in response, and she liked that.
Lucia massaged his back, spreading the soap down to his waist, then dipping her hands in the water and rinsing it off again. She saw his muscles tense at her light touch, and she was intrigued at the effect she had on him.
She ran her fingers lightly down his back, and when she had made her way up again, marveling at the way his muscles flexed under her strokes, he caught her hand, jerking her forward so she was pressed tightly against his back.
“You are killing me.” He pronounced each word acutely. “If you don’t stop now, I’ll have to throw you on the floor and make love to you.” His voice was strained and husky, and it sent spirals of pleasure swirling through her. It made her bold, too.
Her face was next to his, and she turned to kiss his ear. It drove her wild when he did it to her, and she wondered if it would have the same effect on him.
Apparently it did.
His whole body tensed, his hands gripping the sides of the tub, his jaw clenched tightly. Finally he seized her chin and kissed her properly, his tongue meeting hers and thrusting deeply. She sighed with pleasure, matching his every erotic effort.
Her breasts were pushing against his back, and under the wet chemise her nipples were hard and sensitive. She rubbed tentatively against his back, and his fingers spread over her cheeks, cupping her head so that he could kiss her more deeply. When the kiss ended and he pulled away, she scanned his gray eyes, then allowed her gaze to slide down his body toward his hard member.
He watched her, the heat in his look searing her. Shakily she retrieved the soap and lathered her hands with suds. His back was unarguably clean, so she scooted to the side of the tub and ran her hands over his chest, careful of the fading red gash from De´charne´’s sword.
His hands tightened on the sides of the tub again, and when she followed his hungry gaze, she saw he was staring at her wet chemise. The material clung to her breasts, outlining every curve.
Lucia’s hands stroked his stomach, then moved lower. With a jerk Alex grabbed her wrist, and their eyes met.
“I want to touch you,” she whispered.
He shook his head. “Lucia—”
“Let me touch you.”
After a long moment he released her wrist, and she smiled at the battle-ready position he assumed: eyes shut tight, body tense, hands fisted.
She stroked his chest, then slid her fingers down his hard abdomen, whisper-light, then skimmed lower.
He groaned, but she hardly noticed. He was silky and hard, firm and yielding, alive beneath her touch. Finally, with a shudder, he caught her wrist and kissed her palm.
“It’s your turn.” His eyes glinted.
