“Getting settled,” he said.
“In my shower?”
“Can you think of a better place?”
“At the moment, no.”
“As you will recall, I have a special talent for hair washing.” He massaged her scalp. Between his strong hands rubbing her, his hard chest pressed against her, the steamy hot water, and the aroma of her herbal shampoo mixed with the aroma of Zach, she was in heaven.
She closed her eyes and breathed in deeply. “I’ve missed you so much, Zach.”
“Then why did you leave me?”
She opened her eyes and stared into his. Their unique beauty was laced with sadness.
“I’ll tell you. When we’re out of the shower, okay? Right now, can we just relax?”
“Here, let me rinse you.” He turned her and ran his fingers through her long tresses as the shower pelted the lather down the drain. She turned away from him, leaned her head back, and let the water stream push her hair from her face so it hung behind her in sopping locks. This time when she looked into his eyes, they smoldered. He pulled her to him and kissed her.
Their wet bodies slid together under the stream of the shower, and Dusty clamped her arms around Zach’s neck as he hoisted her upward. She wrapped her legs around him and he entered her. So gently, so slowly. Not like in the hay barn at the stock show. This was lingering, soothing love. He pressed into her deeply, and she felt his sweet caress everywhere—in her heart, her soul, her very core. She clamped her mouth onto his and kissed him with passion, with all the love she felt for him. She did love him. So much.
Please, she begged silently. Please don’t let him be too disappointed.
When he broke away, she whimpered, but he licked her earlobe and whispered endearments to her. Then he pushed her against the cool tiled wall of the bath and shoved into her more forcefully. “I love you, darlin’.” He thrust, holding her rump in one hand while the other reached into her private curls. “I love you so much.” He thrust again as he circled her clit with his thumb. “Please tell me you love me, Dusty. Please.”
“Yes,” she said in a breathless rasp. “Yes, I love you, Zach. I love you.”
“Again,” he groaned. “Say it again.”
“I love you. I love you so much. Only you.”
“I want to be your only lover, Dusty. The only man to come inside you. Please. Let me be the one.”
Emotion swirled around her, in her. “Yes, I want that too. I want you to be the only one.”
He plunged into her more deeply, taking, giving. “I want to take care of you.”
He didn’t know what he was saying, of course. But Dusty was determined to let him make the choice. “I love you,” she said again, and then she climaxed. As her walls hugged him in the ultimate caress, she felt him come. She felt eve
ry spurt of his seed as he thrust.
And he told her loved her again.
* * *
“Put this on,” Zach said, after they had dried each other and he had pulled on a pair of boxers from his duffel. In his hand was a T-shirt.
“Uh, okay. What is it?”
“Just one of my shirts. The thought of my woman hanging out in one of my shirts has always kind of turned me on.”
“I don’t think you need any help in that department.” Dusty raised her eyebrows at him. “But I love the idea of wearing your shirt.” She pulled it over her head. “It’s so big on me.”
“Here.” He handed her a pair of his boxers, and she stepped into them. He sat down on her bed and pulled her onto his lap. “Time to talk,” he said.
“Yeah, I suppose so.” Dusty fingered the red scar where Zach had been gored. There was an indentation where the surgeon had removed the diseased tissue, an interruption in his hair pattern. She stroked the flesh, smoothed her fingers along the ridges of scar tissue and then over the concave surface. “Does it hurt?”
“Not anymore, and the redness will fade with time.”