Page 214 of Positively Pricked

Chapter 72

He pulled back to gaze into my eyes. "Not yet."

"Well, don't you think you should?"

"That depends," he said.

"Oh what?"

His lips curved into a wicked smile. "If you don't mind rug burn on your ass."

I stifled a giggle. "Well, maybeI'dbe on top. Andyou'dget the burnt ass."

"Or maybe," he said, "I could take your sweet ass upstairs and make you forget this rug ever existed."

My breath caught. That soundedreallygood. "Come to think of it," I said, "I've always hated this rug."

"Yeah?" He was still smiling. "Say the word, and I'll burn it."

"You wouldn’t."

His voice was nearly a caress. "I would if it made you happy."

The truth was, I actually believed him. And I might've told him so, if only he didn't, just then, get to his feet and pull me up with him. "Come on," he said, leading me toward the main stairway. "Let's pick out our bedroom."

"Ourbedroom?"

"Well, yeah," he said. "If you think I'm letting you leave this place, you're crazy."

Whether he was kidding or not, his enthusiasm was contagious, and together, we bounded up the stairs like two college kids on Spring Break.

Embarrassingly, we never made it past the very first bedroom where, after glimpsing its luxurious bathroom, I suddenly recalled that I'd been promised a shower – withhim.

And this is where we found ourselves two minutes later, naked and lathered as the steaming water cascaded down from multiple shower heads on both sides.

Zane's hair was wet, and his body was glistening. As far as his hands, thosewonderfulhands, they were slippery with soap as they ran slowly up and down my body, lathering my breasts, my back, my stomach, my legs, and everywhere in between.

As formyhands, they had some serious exploring of their own to do, and I wasn't going to let this opportunity pass me by.

He'd been my own personal fantasy for longer than I'd been willing to admit, even in the deepest, darkest parts of the night, when he'd been haunting my dreams with fantasies like the reality in front of me now.

He was undeniably beautiful, with his sculpted body and perfect face. And yet, that wasn't why I'd fallen for him. It was his inner beauty – hidden like a treasure reserved for the cherished few who claimed a special place in his heart.

Did this include me? It sure seemed like it. If so, this made me the luckiest girl in the whole world.

I couldn’t help but smile as I ran my soapy hands along his back and down his ass, loving the feel of his hard muscles shifting in time with the motions of his own hands, which were, even now, caressing me to distraction.

More eager than ever, I reached for the soap again and lathered my hands until they were overflowing with white, scented foam. After returning the soap to its holder, I reached out, washing his chest with both of my hands – loving the feel of his pecs, hard and firm, under my smooth fingers.

Through all of this, my eyes were exploring too – relishing the sight of his body, his face, and best of all, his eyes, filled with an expression that looked a lot like love.

And then, he spoke. "Jane?"

"Hmmmmm?"

His hands had returned to my breasts. His palms were cupping them while his fingers captured the nipples, giving them a tender, maddening squeeze that sent a warm tingle all the way to my toes.

His voice was quiet and sincere. "You're made for me. You know that, right?"