“No, thanks.”
She picked up her wine, sipped, set it down. “All right,” she said, meeting his eyes. “All right.”
She lifted half of her sandwich, took a bite. And smiled. “It’s good.”
“A Doyle staple.”
She took another bite and brushed his leg under the table with her sexy purple toes. “It’s good to be home. You know, one of the things I have in those shopping bags is this incredible honey almond scrub they use at the spa. After dinner, and after I give the dogs some more play and attention, we could take a shower. I’ll exfoliate you.”
“Is that code?”
She laughed. “You’ll have to find out.”
“Do you know why I don’t cut my sandwiches into triangles?”
“Why?”
“For the same reason I don’t want to smell like honey and almonds.”
She gave him a wicked look as she picked up a french fry. “Or eat Lean Cuisine. I bet I could change your mind on the scrub. Tell you what. I’ll just do your back. Your big, strong, manly back, and we’ll see how it goes from there. They also had this shop that sold very interesting lingerie. I bought a little something. A very, very little something, which I’d be inclined to model for you, if you try the scrub.”
“How little?”
“Minuscule.”
“Just the back.”
She smiled and nibbled on a fry. “To start.”
She played with the dogs for an hour, endlessly tossing balls, letting them chase her through the obstacle course, then taking turns playing tug with each of them until he wondered that her arms didn’t pop out of their sockets.
But he could see, even when he left the games and sat on the porch to watch, she used the activities, the dogs, the connections to focus. To block out what they’d spoken of before dinner.
She’d deal, he thought, because that’s what she did. For now, she channeled her energy, and whatever nerves brewed under it, into the dogs and somehow transformed it into joy.
“Now I need that shower.” She swiped at her damp face with the back of her hands.
“You wore them out.”
“Part of the plan.” She held out a hand. “I never asked what you were up to while I was gone.”
“Work. And after work, James and I took in some strip clubs.”
“Uh-huh.”
“We took the dogs,” he said as they walked upstairs.
“Naturally.”
“Newman’s a mean drunk.”
“It’s a problem.” In the bedroom she dug the box of scrub out of the shopping bag, opened it for the jar.
“Actually, if you want some speculation and gossip, I don’t think we’re the only ones who’ll have exfoliated in the shower recently.”
“Sorry, what?”
“I came by to pick up the dogs one morning because I needed some supplies and figured I’d save James the trip. Lori’s car was in the drive.”
“Really? Well, well. She might’ve stopped by early, like you did. I hope not, but—”
“He came out when I started rounding up the dogs. He blushed.”
“Aw.” She crooned it, then laughed. “That’s so sweet.” After she set the jar down on the bathroom counter, she pulled the band from her hair—shook out all that rose gold.
He went rock hard.
“Strip it off,” she ordered. “Let’s see if I can make you blush.”
“I don’t blush, and I’m not sweet.”
“We’ll see.” She tugged off her shirt, but flicked his hand away when he reached out. “Uh-uh. A deal’s a deal. Let’s get wet.”
Maybe it was another way of focusing, channeling, blocking out. But who was he to complain? Naked, he stepped under the spray. “Your bathroom needs to be updated and redesigned.”
“I’ll take that under advisement.” She made a circle with her finger, so he turned around and gave her his back. “It feels a little rough,” she told him as she scooped the scrub out of the jar. “But in a good way.”
She began to rub it over his back in slow, steady circles. “The texture, the flesh-to-flesh contact, the aroma—all add to the experience. Your skin wakes up and feels more—Uh-uh,” she said again, when he reached back. “I do the touching till we’re done. Hands on the wall, Doyle.”
“Did you get naked in the shower at the spa for this?”
“No. I’m adjusting it for home use. You smell wonderful already, and mmmm, smooth.” She leaned in, let her breasts ride over his back before using more scrub farther down. “Is this all right?” she asked as she circled those firm hands over his ass.
“Yeah.”
“Why don’t you close your eyes, relax? I’ll just keep going until you tell me to stop.”
Those hands ran down his legs, the rough texture tingling over his skin to be sluiced away by the spray, then explored by her lips, her tongue.
Need banged in his blood until his hands on the wall were fists. Rich scent curled in the steam, became erotic until even drawing a breath aroused to aching.
“Fiona.”
“Just a little more,” she murmured. “I haven’t even started on the front yet. You’ll be... unbalanced. Turn around, Simon.”
She knelt in front of him, water gleaming off her skin, sleeking her hair back. “I’ll just start down here, and work my way up.”
“I want you. You couldn’t need for me to want you more than this.”
“You’ll have me, as much as you want. But let’s see if you can hold out till I finish. Let me finish, and you can do whatever you want with me.”
“Jesus Christ, Fiona. You drive me insane.”
“I want to. That’s what I want tonight. But not yet.”
He reached down for her hands, let out a strained laugh. “Don’t even think about putting that stuff on my —”
“That’s not what I’m going to put there.” She skimmed her tongue over him until he bit back a moan. “Can you hold out?” she murmured, torturing him with her mouth as her hands worked up his legs, over his belly. “Can you hold out until you’re inside me? Hot and hard inside me. That’s what I want when I’m done. I want you to take me and use me until I can’t stand it, then I want you to take me and use me more. I won’t tell you to stop. I won’t tell you to stop until you’re done.”
She took him to the edge, then those tormenting lips slicked over his belly, up his chest, while her hands circled, circled.
“The water’s going cold,” she murmured against his mouth. “We should—”
He put her back to the wet wall. “You’ll have to take it, and me.”
“Deal’s a deal.” Her breath caught and shuddered out when he slid his hand between her legs.
“Wider.”
She gripped his shoulders, shuddered once as his eyes burned into hers. As he drove into her, they burned still. He took her, ruthlessly, so that her cries echoed with the slap of wet flesh, the sizzle of cold water. When her head fell on his shoulder, he continued to thrust while his hands made rough use of her body.
His own release ripped through him and left him raw.
He managed to shut off the water and pull her out. When she staggered, he half carried her to the bed. They dropped onto it wet and breathless.
“What do you—” She broke off, let out a whistling breath, cleared her throat. “What do you say about honey
