Fueling His Hunger (Masters of Adrenaline 2)

“I’m not sure how I could help anyway. If there are cops involved, it’s best to lie low.”

Fox grunted. “Your family is more important than a hot piece of ass.”

“Don’t get all sanctimonious with me,” Luke snapped. “I remember how you were with Addison. You were a space cadet.”

“I loved her. We had a real relationship. I wasn’t chasing some pipe dream across the country—”

“Fuck off, Fox.” His frustration took over. Frustration about the timing, the situation, fear for their business, and the fact that Fox was probably right. Ophelia was a pipe dream and he was wasting his time, but he wanted this. Wanted her. He couldn’t bring himself to walk away just yet. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Look.” Fox took an audible breath. “I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean to insult you. Clearly, you like her. I won’t judge you for that. Just . . . take three days. We’ll be fine. But try to think realistically about this. What’s your future look like with this girl?”

He wanted to tell him to shut up again. Did he have to think about a future? Couldn’t he just enjoy the now?

But a future without Ophelia was starting to look . . . bleak. She was interesting and fun and sexy as hell but that wasn’t even half of it. It was too hard to explain. Fox should understand after he’d been so insane over Addison, but sometimes words just didn’t cut it.

It didn’t matter anyway. In three days, they’d return home and part ways. The adventure would be over. He should start pulling away now. It’d be easier to drop her off at home and walk away if he started detaching ahead of time.

Yeah. That was a good plan.

Luke said good-bye to his cousin, then placed his phone on the nightstand and stared at the carpet design, contemplating his next move. Detach. He could do that. She was just some woman, right? He barely knew her.

The bathroom door opened and Ophelia stepped into the room, a towel wrapped around her body, her hair hanging wet on her shoulders, and her cheeks rosy.

Fuck. All thought of cousins and car theft evaporated. She was lovely and vulnerable, and he really wanted to kiss her. He wanted an army of mutant goats to show up and attack them so he could impress her by fending them off.

He wanted to do every pervy and romantic thing he’d ever thought of to this poor creature.

He settled for pervy, for now. “Well, well. What do we have here?”

She rolled her eyes at him. “I just came out to get some clean clothes.” Despite her words, she stood in the center of the room, skin glistening, chest rising and falling too rapidly for the casual air she was trying to exude. She lingered there, her towel slipping down until it barely covered her nipples.

Her gaze wandered the room aimlessly. With another woman he would have thought she was lost in thought, but not Ophelia. She was painfully aware of him, her body alert and full of tension. Like a sweet little bitch in heat, all too aware the dominant male had taken notice.

He let his gaze travel over her, and smiled lazily to let her know he enjoyed what he saw, even though she was pretending not to be watching him. Although they hadn’t known each other long, he was starting to decipher her body language, especially when it came to arousal. This was a signal that she was needy but too shy to ask.

“Come here.”

She clutched her towel tighter, and ducked her head. “Why?”

“Because I want to play with your pussy.”

The pink in her cheeks darkened to red. “You’re so dirty!”

“Nope, just showered.”

“I mean what you say. You can’t just kiss me, you always have to say something crude.” Her grip on the towel shifted, threatening to expose one of her breasts, and he stared there in silent anticipation, willing the towel to droop lower. As though he hadn’t just seen her naked in the shower. There was something about a woman in a towel that made a man sit up and take notice. Some parts even more than others.

“Come here. Let me check how much my crude talk turns you off.”

“What? No!”

“No? Hmm . . . that’s not your safeword, sweetheart. Are you disobeying me in the hopes of getting another spanking?”

“Well . . . no. I . . .” Her adorable, pink-painted toes dug into the plush carpet.

“Then come here, before you get punished.”

A mottled blush spread up her chest and neck to meet the one in her cheeks and extend straight up into her hairline. Little blond girls sure could blush.