Your Fierce Love (The Bennett Family 7)

I barely register when he turns me around, soaping my back too. All of my back, including the scars. I tighten up a bit, then relax again. It’s okay; this is Blake. I trust him, and I love his touch. After the warm spray washes away the soap, he turns the water off and hugs me from behind, wrapping his arms around me, resting his mouth in the nook of my neck. It feels good, and innocent... right up until I press my ass into him and feel his rock-hard erection.

“Just ignore it,” Blake says.

“But I don’t want to. I want to kiss it, lick it. In general thank it for the fabulous job it’s done.” I turn around, looking up at him. “Just putting it out there, but I won’t go to sleep tonight. I have to get up in three hours anyway. Now, I have a few ideas about how we could fill those hours....”

“Are you trying to corrupt me?”

“Is it working?”

“I don’t want you to be sore tomorrow.”

“Clearly I need to sharpen my temptation skills.”

“You’re killing me, Clara. Let’s get out of this shower and put some clothes on.”

“Then what?”

“Then I’m going to take care of you.”

I did not expect this comeback. He takes my hand again as he leads us back to the room. I slip into a robe, and Blake puts on his boxers. He looks like an underwear model, with his six-pack and wet hair. I can imagine what an uproar he’s causing every time he goes to the beach. Women are probably vying for him. A pang of jealousy shoots through me, making my heart squeeze. I’m being silly, and I’m determined not to waste any second worrying. I have much better things to do until I leave. I want to get my fill of all things Blake: his smile, his touch, his humor. I’m going to miss him, and that’s ridiculous, because I will only be gone for five days.

“I need to pack.”

“Hell, and I thought I did last-minute packing.”

“Not my fault. I was going to do that before going to bed, but then someone bulldozed over my plans.” I elbow him, pointing to the suitcase resting on top of the dresser. “Can you get that for me?”

“Sure.”

I lean against the wall, tightening my robe. Blake walks to the dresser, and he’s so tall that he can easily reach the suitcase by extending one arm. The expanse of his back is ripped and as I look closely, I notice a few scratches on his shoulder blades, four on each one. I don’t remember doing that. Just as I don’t remember biting him, but there’s a definite mark on his bicep as he flexes it to retrieve the suitcase. Heavens, what a sight this is. I should store more of my belongings at that level, ask him to reach for them. The movement makes good use of quite a few muscle groups. It’s a good workout for him, and a delectable sight for my eyes.

Totally a win-win situation.

He lowers the suitcase and catches me gazing at him.

“See anything you like?”

Eh, what’s a girl to do when she’s caught spying? Deny or come forward. I decide on the latter, and if I’m going to own up to it, I’m going to be thorough about it.

“Make that everything. You’re handy to keep around. You can assemble furniture and are tall enough to remove objects without needing an extra chair.”

“That list is far from exhaustive.”

“Forgot to mention your mad orgasm skills.”

“That’s my Clara,” he declares with a grin, and my heart soars.

Winking, he lifts the suitcase, placing it at the foot of the bed. I unhitch myself from the wall, walking to the dresser. Opening the drawers, I intend to inspect the contents so I can decide what to take with me, but I don’t have a chance. Blake hooks an arm around my waist, sweeps my hair to one side, and places tiny kisses on my neck.

“You’re the one corrupting me now.”

“And you’re enjoying it.”

“I’m never going to be ready on time like this.”

“Maybe that’s my plan, so I can keep you here with me.”

His tone is playful and raw in equal measures. I wonder if I picked up on the rawness because he’s more open, or if because of everything we experienced tonight, I feel closer to him. He spins me around until I face him.