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Saving Kylie

Page 10

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He wanted to ask. Nearly did, until sense prevailed. Now wasn’t the time. “No wonder we get along then.” He nipped her earlobe. “Because I’m a pretty naughty boy.”

“Since when?”

“You want a date?” Laughing, he gripped her waist. Then he realized she wasn’t laughing. He eased back. “We only spent one night together.”

“I know, but it just seemed like you were…”

“What?” He almost didn’t want to know.

“Normal, I guess.” She shrugged. “Nothing wrong with that.”

“Normal? Ugh.” Apparently he should’ve tied her to his bed and whaled on her ass since he’d been neatly branded with the boring label. Her tone said it all.

What a pisser. He’d thought she just wasn’t interested in college. Turned out she didn’t enjoy him in the sack.

Nope, not the least bit demoralizing. Not at all.

Justin reached up to tweak her nipples, tugging them as hard as she’d stroked his cock. She moaned, the sound filling the bathroom. “News flash, Kylie. We’re not in college anymore, and things have changed.”

He attributed her sudden hitch of breath to his brisk touch and relaxed his grip. His hunger for her might not be sated yet, but after her accident, she needed to sleep.

And he had to get ahold of himself. Somehow.

“Time for that sponge bath,” he murmured, reluctantly releasing her.

She turned. “Oh, but—”

“No buts.” He’d already retrieved the washcloth from the cabinet under the sink. “You’re sore and sticky.”

Again her fingers trailed over her stomach. She reached up to cup her breasts. “Not nearly sticky enough.”

He swallowed and worked on breathing. “Is that so?”

“Mmm-hmm. I have plans for you.” She let out a breathy purr when he bent his head to suck one of her perfect peach nipples. It pebbled against his tongue, instantly responsive.

”You’re even better than the fantasies I’ve had about you.”

“You fantasized about me? After that lackluster night we had, I can’t imagine why.” As if she’d said too much, she bit her lower lip. “I mean, it was college. None of us knew what we were doing back then.”

Rather than question her further—lackluster night, huh?—he shifted away and turned on the sink faucet. He soaked the washcloth in warm water and cast her a sideways glance as he soaped up the cloth. “You’ve hinted at it all night, and I need to know. Are you really single now? And if so, why the hell are you?”

That same undefinable something he’d seen more than once in the bar flickered through her expression. “If you weren’t sure, why did you touch me?”

“I think you already know,” he said quietly.

She swallowed hard. “I’m very single, actually. My ex didn’t like to limit his options.” She propped her foot up on the sink and bared her slick pussy to his appreciative gaze. “By the way, there’s one part of me that really needs some attention.”

“Already?”

“It’s been several minutes, I’ll have you know.”

Grinning, he lathered her thigh. “Here?” His hand slid over her knee. “Maybe here?” he asked, the sound of her laughter swimming through his bloodstream.

“Try again, sport.” She gripped his wrist and dragged his hand to the juncture of her thighs. Even through the soapy cloth, she burned. “Much better.”

He rubbed one finger wrapped in nubby terrycloth over her clit. As much as he loved her whimper, her drowsy eyes told him she was fighting to stay awake. “Quick washup, then bed.” He brushed a kiss over her forehead. “And sleep.”

“You’re so cute. And sweet. I deserve a sweet man.”



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