Ripped (Miller Sisters 1)

‘I was hoping you’d make that decision, not him. When he made it I was worried you hadn’t had time to come to that conclusion yourself and that he’d hurt you.’

I thought about my job promotion party when Charlie had got drunk and not even offered congratulations. ‘I suppose I hate giving up on things. It feels like failure. Anyway, it won’t happen again. No more relationships for me. Just crazy sex. More of this. I didn’t know this was going to happen. I didn’t know Rosie had invited you.’

‘I know. That was obvious when I walked into the kitchen and saw your face.’

I turned my head and looked at him. ‘I’m glad she did.’

‘So am I.’ He leaned towards me, his gaze on my mouth. His hand slid between my thighs. It wasn’t that long since he’d been inside me, but I desperately wanted him there again.

I lifted myself out of the water briefly—very briefly because the blast of freezing air over my shoulders was enough to convince me that under the water was better than out of it—and straddled him. I slid down so that my shoulders were under the water and saw he was watching me with that sexy, hooded gaze that made me want to do wicked things to him.

‘You are the best Christmas present I’ve ever had—’ I murmured the words against his lips and felt him smile. His hands were locked on my hips, preventing me from moving. His eyes glittered and his jaw was clenched.

‘Let’s go back inside.’

‘Now?’

‘Yes, right now. I want to see you. All of you, and I can’t do that without giving you frostbite.’ With his arm around me, he lifted us both out of the water and steadied me while he grabbed a towel.

Chapter Eight

We left damp footprints on his bedroom floor. He closed the door on the cold, the snow and the rest of the world and urged me into the master bathroom.

His arm was still around my waist, his mouth on mine and he reached out an arm and thumped a button on the wall, sending needles of hot water over both of us.

Finally I understood the true appeal of a walk-in shower. We didn’t have to stop kissing. Water streamed over my hair and down my back and I think he must have altered the flow or I probably would have drowned. He removed the clip from my hair again and it slithered down my back in a damp mass. His hands slid over my body, leaving no part of me untouched and I did the same to him until I thought I was going to explode. I wanted to open my eyes and look at him, so I groped for the wall and switched off the water. Steam swirled between us. I was standing toe to toe with him and I leaned forward and pressed my mouth to his skin. Droplets of water clung to his flesh and with hands and mouth I explored his chest, the flat planes of his abdomen, the power of his thighs. I took my time, licking him, tasting him and then dropped to my knees. There was only one part of him I didn’t touch and I heard the breath hiss through his teeth as I teased him as mercilessly as he’d teased me. I came close several times, sliding my tongue over his warm skin, tantalizingly close to the hard length of him. In fairness I was willing to bet I was as desperate as he was.

‘Cristo, Hayley—’

I glanced up and saw his eyes, inky dark and focused on me. A muscle flickered in his lean jaw. He was right on the edge of control and I kept him there for a moment, just to show I could prolong gratification if I had to. That I could match everything he did to me.

Of course I didn’t last as long as he had.

I slid my tongue over him and then took him in my mouth, inch by glorious smooth, pulsing inch and I heard him groan something in Italian and felt his fingers lock in my hair. I wondered how I could ever have thought him icy cold. He was raw Italian passion—it was just that he managed to conceal it in public and I loved that. I loved that I knew a part of him others didn’t. That he was like this only with me. I saw the real Nico Rossi. I preferred that version. More human. Hotter in every way. I used my lips and tongue, sucked and licked until he hauled me to my feet and pressed me back against the smooth, damp wall of his wet room, his eyes fierce and his breathing uneven.

I was breathless, desperate, but nothing compared to him. His eyes were fierce and he slammed his arms either side of me, caging me. Not that I needed to be caged. I wasn’t going anywhere. I could feel the cool, smooth tiles pressing against my back and the hard heat of his body. It was the best kind of trapped I’d ever felt.

Water clung to his forehead and turned his inky dark lashes to spikes. He was the hottest man I’d ever laid eyes on and I hooked my leg behind his hips, pressing him closer, not wanting any space between us. He lifted me easily and I wrapped my legs around him and my arms around his neck. Heat throbbed between us and his first thrust into my body made me cry out.

‘You feel incredible—’ His voice was raw, but at least he could still speak.

I was incapable of making any sound that wasn’t an animal moan and I simply clung to his wide shoulders, kissing him as he drove into me. We came together in a simultaneous rush of ecstasy.

He lowered me gently to the floor, but didn’t let me go, which was a good thing because my legs were like jelly.

The room was steamy and warm, presumably from the heat of the shower, but to be honest it could have been from us.

Still with his arm around me, he reached for another towel—he seemed to have an endless supply—wrapped it around me, kissed me gently on the mouth and led me through to the bedroom. My hair hung in a damp mass past my shoulders and he dried it carefully and then dropped the towel on the floor without looking at it. He was looking at me.

One thing I knew for sure—if this was emotionless sex, I was going to do it every single day for the rest of my life.

I knew it was late the moment I woke. The sun was blazing through the glass wall of his bedroom, bouncing off the river like a million tiny diamonds.

I rolled onto my side and saw the bed was empty.

Then I smelled bacon.

I sat up in bed and realised my clothes were probably still scattered across his living room. Feeling like a burglar, I walked into his closet and found a shirt. One of his perfect white ones. Smiling, I slipped it on and it fell past my bottom and over my hands. I rolled the sleeves back, raked my fingers through my hair and walked in the direction of the delicious smells.