Page 59 of To the Chase

It got stuck on my hips, and I laughed. “I think I might be too wet.”

His eyes darkened, flashing to mine. “Then we’ll have to dry you off. You can’t stay in this dress.”

He shut the water off, and we climbed out, clinging to one another. The tile was warm, but the air pricked at my wet flesh. I huddled closer, trying to work my way beneath his skin.

Exhaling, his forehead dropped to mine. “Shit. I just remembered we don’t have towels here. They’ve already been moved to my new place.”

Snorting a laugh, I wrapped my arms around his waist. “Oh no. I guess we’ll have to dry each other. How terrible.”

He raised his head, checking in with me again. “Are we still good?”

“Yes. We’re terribly, awfully, crazy good.” Pushing back, I shoved my dress the rest of the way off, letting it land in a squelching puddle at my feet.

“Now catch me!”

I bolted out of the room.

Chapter Twenty-one

Salvatore

Therewereonlysomany places for Bea to go, and her trail was easy to follow. She’d left puddles like breadcrumbs down the hallway in her escape.

As I tracked her, I yanked off my wet clothing, adding to the water, no doubt ruining the wood floors. Normally, I would have cared. It would have driven me to distraction. But one flash of Bea’s pale, creamy flesh in her black, lacy lingerie, and catching her was all I could focus on.

I was a column of iron, and her giggles were magnetized, drawing me toward her.

She’d gone to my bedroom—the last room in the hallway. There was nowhere else she could’ve gone.

Down to my underwear, I pushed inside, finding her standing in the center of the room on the rug I’d left behind.

“Found you.”

She grinned. “You’ve lost your clothes.”

“So have you.”

She crooked her finger. “I’m cold. Come warm me up, Salvatore.”

I went, but I took my time getting there. It couldn’t be helped. I had to look at her, and if I went too fast, I had no doubt I’d trip over my own feet.

The moon glinted off her like she’d been lit by design. Her skin gleamed silvery white, in stark contrast to her black lingerie. There was a name for the one-piece satin-and-lace contraption molded to her curves, but I didn’t know it. I was more focused on the parts of her that weren’t covered.

Her legs were bare, and the way they brushed together when she shifted was mesmerizing. My gaze snagged on the supple give of her flesh, the subtle bounce. Everything about her made my fantasies vastly underwhelming.

I trailed down to her feet, one slightly on top of the other. Her nails were painted dark red, and from where I stood, I could see her fine bones rippling as she flexed her toes. How was it possible for even her feet to be pretty? I didn’t think about feet. Not anyone’s. But I couldn’t skip a single part of her.

“Tore?”

Right. I was supposed to be moving. Going to her.

“I’m looking at you,” I forced out.

“Fine. I’ll look at you too,” she countered.

The satin-and-lace garment clung to her like a second skin, hugging the generous swell of her hips and dipping at her waist before spilling over the soft rise of her belly like a trickling waterfall.

Her breasts were barely contained in lacy cups, rising dangerously high with each breath she took. All I could think was how badly I wanted to bury my face there and forget the rest of the world.