My blood is thick with desire, my erection painful. “I want you now. Here…fast, hard,” I murmur, as my hand runs up her naked thigh beneath her skirt. “Are you still bleeding?”
“No.”
“Good.” I push her skirt up over her hips, hook both thumbs into her cotton panties and drop to the floor, kneeling, slipping the panties down her legs.
She gasps when I grab her hips and kiss the sweet junction beneath her pubic hair. Moving my hands to the backs of her thighs, I part her legs, exposing her clitoris to my tongue. When I start my sensual assault her fingers dive into my hair. My tongue torments her, and she moans and tips her head back against the wall.
She smells exquisite. She tastes better.
As she purrs she tilts her pelvis toward my invading, insistent tongue, and her legs begin to tremble.
Enough. I want to come inside her.
It will be my skin against her skin again, like in Savannah. Releasing her, I stand and grasp her face, capturing her surprised and disappointed mouth with mine, kissing her hard. I unzip my fly and lift her, clutching her under her thighs. “Wrap your legs around me, baby.” My voice is rough and urgent. As soon as she does, I thrust forward, sliding into her.
She’s mine. She’s heaven.
Clinging to me, she whimpers as I plunge into her—slowly at first, then building as my body takes control, driving me forward, driving me into her, faster and faster, harder and harder, my face at her throat. She moans and I feel her quicken around me, and I’m lost, in her, in us, as she climaxes, crying out her release. The feel of her pulsing around me tips me over the edge and I come deep and hard inside her, growling out a garbled version of her name.
I kiss her throat, not wanting to withdraw, waiting for her to calm. We’re in a cloud of steam from the shower, and my shirt and pants are sticking to my body, but I don’t care. Ana’s breathing slows, and she feels weightier in my arms as she relaxes. Her expression is wanton and dazed as I pull out of her, so I hold her fast while she finds her feet. Her lips rise in a winsome smile. “You seem pleased to see me,” she says.
“Yes, Miss Steele, I think my pleasure is pretty self-evident. Come—let me get you in the shower.”
I undress quickly, and when I’m naked I begin undoing the buttons on Ana’s blouse. Her eyes move from my fingers to my face.
“How was your journey?” I ask.
“Fine, thank you,” she says, her voice a little throaty. “Thanks once again for first class. It really is a much nicer way to travel.” She takes a quick breath, as if she’s steeling herself. “I have some news,” she says.
“Oh?” What now? I remove her blouse and deposit it on top of my clothes.
“I have a job.” She sounds reticent.
Why? Did she think I’d be angry? Of course she’s found a job. Pride swells in my chest. “Congratulations, Miss Steele. Now will you tell me where?” I ask with a smile.
“You don’t know?”
“Why would I know?”
“With your stalking capabilities, I thought you might have—” She stops to study my face.
“Anastasia, I wouldn’t dream of interfering in your career. Unless you ask me to, of course.”
“So you have no idea which company?”
“No. I know there are four publishing companies in Seattle—so I am assuming it’s one of them.”
“SIP,” she announces.
“Oh, the small one, good. Well done.” It’s the company that Ros identified as ripe for takeover. This will be easy.
I kiss Ana’s forehead. “Clever girl. When do you start?”
“Monday.”
“That soon, eh? I’d better take advantage of you while I still can. Turn around.”
She obeys immediately. I remove her bra and skirt, then cup her behind and kiss her shoulder. Leaning against her, I nuzzle her hair. Her scent lingers in my nostrils, soothing, familiar, and uniquely Ana. The feel of her body against mine is both calming and enticing. She really is the whole package.
“You intoxicate me, Miss Steele, and you calm me. Such a heady combination.” Grateful that she’s here, I kiss her hair, then take her hand and pull her into the hot shower.
“Ow,” she squeaks and closes her eyes, flinching under the steamy cascade.
“It’s only a little hot water.” I grin down at her. Opening one eye, she lifts her chin and slowly surrenders to the heat.
“Turn around,” I order. “I want to wash you.” She complies, and I squeeze some shower gel on my hand, work up a lather, and begin to massage her shoulders.
“I have something else to tell you,” she says, her shoulders tensing.
“Oh yes?” I keep my voice mild. Why is she tense? My hands glide over her chest to her beautiful breasts.
“My friend José’s photography show is opening Thursday in Portland.”
“Yes, what about it?” The photographer again?
“I said I would go. Do you want to come with me?” The words come in a rush, as if she’s anxious to get them out.
An invitation? I’m stunned. I only get invitations from my family, from work, and from Elena.
“What time?”
“The opening is at seven thirty.”
This will count as more, surely. I kiss her ear and whisper, “Okay.” Her shoulders soften as she leans back against me. She seems relieved and I’m not sure whether to be amused or annoyed. Am I really that unapproachable?
“Were you nervous about asking me?”
“Yes. How can you tell?”