Taken by Sin

“Yes.”

She was lifted, cradled against Michael’s chest. Really, she wanted to protest. She wasn’t a little thing, not petite like many women. She was almost six feet tall and not at all a lightweight, yet Michael carried her effortlessly into the bathroom. She heard the sound of water turning on. The shower.

He set her on her feet, leaning her against the cool tile wall, then she felt hands at the button on her camos. Her eyes shot open.

“I don’t think so.”

“Can you do it on your own?” He took a step back, only an inch or so. Her fingers fumbled at the buttons, her legs rubbery and unsteady as she began to slide down the wall.

Fuck. “No.” She fell back against the wall, helpless.

“You want me to get one of the female techs to come in and help you?”

“Oh, hell, no.” That would be just what she needed, some twit, gossipy female whispering about her. At least she could trust Michael not to blab about her failures. “Just do it.”

Michael undid the button and zipper on her pants, let them drop to the floor, then wrapped his arm around her while he lifted her tank top above her head. As she stood in her bathroom with the shower running, clad only in her bra and panties, she realized that no man had ever seen her in this little clothing.

And it was about to get worse than that.

“Hold on, Mandy.”

“Uh-huh.”

He bent down and she felt his hands on her hips as he dropped to the floor.

“Lift your foot so I can get your socks off.”

She cooperated to the extent she was able, her gaze drifting down to see Michael’s head against her thigh. She laid her hand on top of it. Soft, silky hair, just as she’d imagined. Too bad she was too dizzy, too sick, to really enjoy this, because Michael was a hot guy.

He stood and gazed down at her, something unfathomable in the depths of his blue eyes. “Can you get in there on your own?”

“Um. Sure.”

“Okay. I’ll let you take it from here, then.”

He let go. She wobbled and her knees buckled.

“Shit,” Michael said, grabbing her around the waist.

“My thoughts exactly.”

“Hold on to this.” He grabbed her hand and pulled the shower door closed, putting her hand on the towel rail outside the door. “Don’t let go. I’ll be right back.”

“Uh-huh.” Like she could go anywhere. Between the wall and the rack, she was good right here.

But Michael didn’t leave. He took a couple steps back and started undressing.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Taking off my clothes.” He kicked off his boots, then dropped his pants-oh, my God, he went commando. He did want her still standing, didn’t he? Why was he torturing her like this? And then he pulled his T-shirt off, revealing one tight, expanded chest with a smattering of dark hair.

She might be dizzy and sick, but by all that was holy, she wasn’t dead. Her mouth watered at the sight of all that male flesh. Dark, tanned, delicious. She couldn’t come up with enough adjectives to adequately describe the body being revealed in front of her. Really, she was weak enough already. This was agony. She had no experience with men. Especially naked men. Tall, well-built naked men. Damn.

And then he moved in, swept his arm around her and pressed his naked body against hers. She couldn’t breathe.

“Your body is hot to the touch, Mandy”

Yeah, she was hot all right. This wasn’t helping any. “I think I can probably handle it on my own.”

He cocked a brow. “Really.”

She managed a short nod. “Yeah.” She palmed his chest. Oh, man she really wanted to touch him, let her hands wander down his sculpted abs to that dark hair below, and points further south. “Let me give it a shot.”

“Okay.” He pulled the shower door open. She turned and her legs buckled. Michael was right there to catch her, his arm sweeping under her breasts to pick her up and brace her back against his chest. “I think I’ll just step in here with you.”

His deep voice reverberated against her back, his warm breath ruffling her hair. “Fine.” She gritted her teeth, figuring she had to get this blood off. And she was too dizzy, weak, and sick to do anything about him being naked, so she figured this was going to be completely innocent.

Michael walked her slowly into the shower and under the spray. And oh, sweet heaven, it felt so good, the hot water cascading down over her face. She closed her eyes and let it cleanse her. She could already feel the demon’s blood washing away. She needed it to go away. She needed all of it to go away, especially the memories. Maybe those could slither down the drain, too.

Michael kept his arm firmly around her, and she had to admit, it helped. So did the water, offering her some clarity. He took a step back and grabbed the shampoo, poured it over her head.

“Lean against me,” he said.

“Like I have a choice?” She did, and he washed her hair. The act was so painfully intimate because no one had ever done it for her before-not that she could remember, anyway-and because no man had ever touched her this way. Hell, no man had ever touched her. The guys in the Realm would never let anyone close, and she hadn’t exactly lived a normal life. She wasn’t used to this kind of intimacy. Even though she knew Michael was just being kind. It wasn’t like he was interested or anything.

He dipped her head forward, rinsed her hair, applied conditioner and rinsed again. Then he grabbed the bar of soap and began to run it over her body. All. Over. Her. Body. Her arms, her back, sliding his soapy hands down her spine, stopping just short of her butt. And even though she wore bra and panties, this was delicious.

And he was, after all, naked.

She so wanted to explore that. She wanted to be naked, too.

Clearly she was starting to feel better. A lot better. So much better that the shock of awareness slid through her senses, overpowering everything but the man behind her. She shivered, goose bumps prickling her flesh, which had nothing to do with the soap and everything to do with his hands on her. He smoothed his hands over her hips, digging his fingers in and stalling.

“Turn around so you can rinse your back under the water.”

His voice had changed, dropped an octave and had an added edge to it. She took it easy as she turned, then tilted her head back and opened her eyes.

His eyes looked like a coming storm, dark and intense. He reached for her shoulders and helped her take a step back under the water as she rinsed.

Then she made a fatal error. She looked down, casually glancing over his body.

Unaffected? She thought him uninterested? Um, no. He was most definitely interested. Her gaze snapped up to his face. His lips curled in the most devastating smile a man could give a woman.

“Sorry. I can’t help it,” he said, as if he had to apologize for being hard, for being so utterly masculine he took her breath away?

For the first time in her life, Mandy realized that she was, in fact, a woman. Before, when she’d been with the guys, they were … family, or fellow hunters. There had never been a man/woman thing between her and any of the guys. Hell, she’d been one of the guys.

But she stood almost naked in the shower with Michael, and for the very first time she felt like a woman. Dizzy and nauseous with whatever this thing was that gripped her from the inside out, but even that couldn’t stop the rush of her sexual awakening. Despite how she felt, she wanted to explore. She was twenty-three years old, sick, disgusted, and she might never get another chance.

She placed her hands on Michael’s shoulders.

He lifted his hands, rubbed the soap, and gently washed her face. “You still had a few spots of blood there.”

He seemed to have trouble speaking, like his voice was hoarse. She tilted her head back and rinsed her face, then shook the water droplets off and opened her eyes to look at him again. “Thanks.”