She should have lit candles or had one of those aromatherapy-dispenser things puffing sweet stuff out into the air. Cal didn’t seem to mind the lack in the romance department. He pulled her in close, her thighs brushing his, her breasts pressed against his chest. Heaven.
There was enough steam in the room to make things fuzzy, like the best kind of dream. Plus, this close, she felt every inch of him, including the inches she’d just enjoyed. Cal held on to her until there was no missing how much he was relishing this shower of theirs.
And she’d barely gotten started.
She reached for him, but he spun her gently around and placed her hands on the tiled wall.
“You touch me now, and this shower’s going to be over before it gets started,” he growled.
“You have a problem with that?” Suddenly, soap and hot water didn’t sound anywhere near as good as having her way with Cal and the impressive erection he was sporting. She slipped a hand behind her, reaching for him again.
He grunted, half amused, half impatient, then reached around her for the shampoo. “Behave.”
“Overrated,” she said, palming him.
“Good thing I don’t mind misbehaving with you some.” His rough whisper echoed in her ear. Then his big fingers were massaging the shampoo through her hair. He was good. Or bad. She gave up trying to figure it out, just let herself sink into the sensual press of his fingers against her head as he worked the lather for long, dreamy minutes. She had no idea a shampoo could be so sensual. His nails scratched erotically across her scalp, sending small shivers down her spine.
He didn’t stop there, either. When her hair was clean, he started in with the washcloth. The soft rain fell around them, comforting and soothing, until she was all but boneless. The cloth traveled over her shoulders, down her arms. He bathed her with the same thoroughness with which he approached everything. Her back and her butt. Her front.
Oh, yes, please.
He ran the soapy cloth down her breasts. Once. Then again when she pushed her breasts into his hand in silent demand. Her nipples were deliciously sensitive, tightening into greedy nubs as he traced a wicked circle around the straining tips.
Needing more, she arched back into him. “Cal—”
“You bet,” he answered roughly.
“Let’s—” She didn’t finish her sentence or even her thought. The cloth dipped lower, moving down past her stomach to her core.
“Let’s let me take care of you, okay?” His ragged breathing promised he was right there with her, and letting Cal have his way didn’t seem like a bad idea at all.
“Right now,” she demanded.
And he did.
He touched her intimately with the cloth, nothing but four-hundred-count Egyptian cotton between his fingers and her flesh. The rough friction of the material was even better than bare skin, letting her prolong the sweet, steady ache. She was close, her body tightening, bearing down on him.
“Tease,” she muttered.
“I’m not teasing.”
When, long minutes later, he reached to turn off the water, she scrambled to get out first because there was something too devastatingly sensual about Cal looking after her. The truth was he overwhelmed her. Fantastically, wonderfully so, but she was losing control of her body in a way she never did. She wrapped a rose-colored—pink—towel around her and padded into the bedroom, leaving him to follow her.
* * *
PIPER WAS STILL determined to be in charge, to be the one giving the orders. Sexy, yes. Cal loved the way she knew what she liked and how her sensuality didn’t embarrass her. Piper was as all out in bed as she was diving. Or living. Piper didn’t hold back. But he wanted something more from her.
He wanted her to trust him.
He followed her into the bedroom, turning different options over in his head.
“Do you trust me?” This night was for her, but for some things, he wanted permission.
She had to think about her answer, which wasn’t the response he’d been hoping for. “Piper—”
He knew she didn’t want a discussion or a conversation. She wanted hot, meaningless sex. With him, though, which apparently meant what they did in her bed wasn’t going to be meaningless. Not for him.
Her knees hit the edge of the mattress. “Yes.”
“Yes, you trust me?”
“You want a notarized document?” she growled back. “Because I can absolutely get up and get one for you, right now.”
He couldn’t stop the smile from flashing across his face. “Remember, you offered.”
She’d been warned.
* * *
CAL TURNED AWAY from the bed and if he wasn’t looking for a condom, she’d kill him.
“Top drawer,” she said. “On the left-hand side. There are condoms.”