Page 8 of Unbound Boxset

CHAPTER THREE

“Morning.”

She blinked drowsily, rolled over, and buried her face in the pillow. Weak streams of light filtered through the blinds. “Not yet,” she groaned. “Later.”

His low laugh filled her ear as a warm body pressed against hers. “How did I figure you would be testy in the morning? Didn’t you sleep well?”

She opened her eyes to find him grinning down at her. His hair fell loose and straight to his shoulders. Ariel reached out and ran her fingers down the dark strands, tracing her thumb over the hard line of his jaw. “You didn’t let me sleep. You’re a slave driver in bed, just like in class.”

“And you are my top student. You get high marks in both.”

“Flatterer.” She leaned over and pressed her lips to his. “I don’t know how great I’m going to be today as a model.”

“I already ordered some fruit and toast. Coffee. And the hotel has an incredible jet shower. It’s just what you need.”

“What I need is for class to start at ten.”

He chuckled and rolled out of bed, padding naked over the carpet as he tweaked the blinds to let more sun through. Ariel studied him in the light. A mass of dark hair swirled over olive skin, his calves and thighs tightly defined. His buttocks and abs were all lean muscle and his erection jutted proudly as he poured a mug of coffee. Her body stirred in response. Grant Madison was one of the most sensual men she’d ever been with. Every moment of last night was a full catering to her body. She felt worshipped, her body the temple he always claimed it to be.

Her one-night gamble with her yoga teacher should have slaked any future cravings.

She’d been wrong.

She only wanted more.

Ariel shook the thought off and posed the question on her mind. “What now?”

He handed her a mug of steaming brew. “Black, right?” She nodded. “Now we get ourselves together and finish up the workshop.”

“And then?”

His face softened as he gazed at her. “And then we figure it out.”

She lifted her chin and asked the question. “Was last night it?”

His lip quirked upward. “It?”

Ariel blew out an irritated breath. “You know, is this thing over? Do we go our separate ways now that our itch has been scratched?”

He seemed to consider the question. “Do you want it to be over?”

“No.”

“Neither do I.” He walked into the bathroom and she heard the water turn on. “Go take your shower.”

Ariel opened her mouth to argue, then surrendered. Grant answered things in his own time. As impatient as she was, he symbolized patience. As much as she liked to control, he fostered surrender. They were complete opposites and would never work out long term. But for now, she’d go with the flow and let Grant set the pace.

Ariel sipped her coffee and strode into the bathroom. The hot water pulsed against each sore muscle and she moaned. Lifting her head up to the spray, she closed her eyes and breathed in and out, enjoying the luxury of the tiled tub and four shower heads that covered every inch of her in massaging water.

Her eyes flew open when hard hands grabbed her hips and pulled her in.

His muscled chest pressed against her back. His jutting manhood settled in between her naked buttocks. With one foot, he kicked her legs apart so she was open to both the water and his hands.

“What are you doing?” Her voice seemed torn from her throat. “We’ll be late.”

“We have time. Shhh, let me wash you.”

He lathered the soap between his hands and slipped down her shoulders, using gentle circular motions as he slowly coated her in bubbles. Her breasts were massaged, his thumbs tweaking her hard nipples and bringing a moan to her lips. He continued over her body, easing her sore muscles until a low fire simmered in her center; a fire that grew steadier as those hands washed her back, her belly, her thighs.