Wicked Secrets (Men of Discovery Island 3)

“Uh-huh.” He dropped a quick, hard kiss on her mouth. “If you confess, I’ll go easier on you.”

When he released the stack of books into her arms, she grinned and stepped away from the door so he could come in.

“I thought that since we’d established you’re only the boss of me in the office, I’d give you some food for thought. You should see my Cosmopolitan collection.”

He couldn’t wait. He loved it when she was wicked.

“If you stayed here, you could read my magazines.” She waggled her eyebrows at him. Or tried.

“You sent me romance novels,” he growled.

She plucked a book off the top of the stack in her arms and waved it at him. The pages bristled with Post-it notes. “I sure did, but you’re the one who read them. I didn’t force you to do that.”

“I was curious. I marked a few ideas to try out.” He advanced on her until her back was pressed against the wall and his forehead rested against hers, the books trapped between them.

“Were you planning on tying me up?” She sounded...curious.

Now that she mentioned it? Yeah. He was.

“I interrupted your shower.”

She blinked, confused by his change of topic. “The water heater’s temperamental. It takes a while for the water to heat up. I was waiting it out.”

He could imagine a dozen different ways to fill the time. “It would be a shame to waste water.”

A grin curved her mouth. “You bet.”

She slipped out of his hold, setting the books down on the floor before heading for the bathroom down the hall. Following her was no hardship at all because her soft cotton shorts hugged her butt, the skimpy fabric riding up with each step she took. Bare legs, bare feet. He couldn’t wait to bare her completely.

When she reached the bathroom door and opened it, steam billowed out, so the heat must have finally kicked in. He stepped in behind her, closing the door and shutting them both into a hazy cocoon.

“I’m only asking one question tonight.”

“Ask away.” She bent over and pulled a stack of towels off a shelf.

“Do you trust me?”

* * *

THE FUNNY THING WAS, Mia did. With her body, at least. The stuff going on in her head was all hers. He turned her on—and he made her laugh. She’d never expected to find both sex and friendship in the same sexy, Tag-shaped package.

“Yes.” She dropped a towel into his hands. “I do.”

“Good,” he said.

“Do I need a safe word? Are we having kinky sex?” She’d have to choose her books very carefully next time.

His finger pressing against her lips had to be the sexiest turn-on ever. “Shhhh. Trust me to make this good for you. Let me give you what you need tonight.”

There was that word again. Need.

“I’m leaving soon,” he said huskily, his thumb caressing her cheek. “I know you don’t want a real guy in your life right now. I’m the practice guy.”

He knew a whole lot of things, probably more than she did. Funny how trust felt like a much bigger word than five letters—and like exactly the right word to describe her feelings for Tag. How had her practice fling become so much more, so quickly?

His jeans did nothing to hide his erection. The thick, solid length of him was reassuringly familiar. She loved how she felt around him. Not just sexy and aroused—although she definitely appreciated those feelings—but safe. Desired. Wanted. She grabbed his butt, pulling him closer.

“If you came over here to have sex, let’s get started already.”

“We’re doing this my way.” He reached over and turned off the water. The steam filling the bathroom softened the rugged angles of his face, covering everything with a white haze. “And I’m taking you against the countertop.”

“Here?” Her bathroom wasn’t large, containing a shower, a vanity and a large wall-mounted mirror. It was a perfectly ordinary counter, too, with all her things lined up in a neat row. Toothbrush. Dental floss. Mouthwash. On the sexy scale, her bathroom ranked somewhere between a one and a two.

“Now.” His hand pressed against the small of her back, guiding her forward. Okay, she’d play.

“Turn around. Bend over.”

When she hesitated, he eased her legs apart. Not roughly, but reminding her he was in charge now. Because she’d agreed to trust him and to play this game with him. The marble countertop was slick and cool beneath her fingertips, but the smooth surface gave her nowhere to hold, so she flattened her palms against the marble and waited.