Page 101 of Reckless Love

“I just need to get off… my feet.” My voice is breathless, and I reach back to run my hand along the erection pressing against the front of his jeans.

He scoops me into his arms and bridal carries me toward his apartment. “Since this might be the only way I can get you off… your feet, I’d better do a good job.”

In his bathroom, he sets me on my feet and then reaches around me to turn on the water of the huge jacuzzi tub that takes up a good portion of the room. The sound of tumbling water echoes in the space while he stares down at me, his fingers lightly brushing my hair off my face with so much reverence it causes an ache across my chest.

He slides his hands under my shirt and draws it over my head, his touch light and gentle. He kisses my shoulder as he unsnaps my bra, and it falls to my feet. When I ease my hands under his shirt, he helps me by reaching back over his head to pull his shirt off, tossing it to the side.

We strip each other, piece by piece, exploring and kissing, while the water heats and fills the tub. There’s so much care in the way he treats me that it almost makes me want to cry. He’s the only man who’s ever treated me like I was more than a body to enjoy, a wealthy family name to revere.

How was I so stupid for so long?

Once the tub is full enough, he picks me up and deposits me in the water before climbing in after me. We both sink down to our shoulders with contented sighs. He’s right, though, it’s a tighter fit than I visualized.

“Why were you on your feet so much?” he asks, fingers flicking the water at me playfully.

“We’re doing an employee satisfaction survey, and I wanted to be the one to present it to all the different divisions and departments. A bit of a marathon of slideshows and answering questions. But I wanted everyone to know I’m after the truth—whatever that looks like.”

“Brave,” he says with a hint of a smile. “People aren’t always kind with their truth, you know.”

“I know,” I say with a sigh. “I’m not going to look at them. Not personally. Can you imagine? I’d lose my shit at every critical comment. HR is going to read the responses and compile the data for me.”

“Smart,” he agrees, that tiny smile still there.

“Why is that amusing?”

“I like the ways you’ve changed.”

When I frown, his smile grows to a grin.

“And the ways you’ve stayed the same.”

We stare at each other from opposite sides of the tub, and I can’t help tracing his face, noting all the changes in him, all the things that have stayed the same. I could watch him age for the rest of my life and never get bored with this view. Unfathomable that he almost wasn’t here.

“Come here,” he says, reaching out a hand for me.

I wade through the water to him, straddling his waist. He cups my ass, drawing me tight against him, and he’s obviously turned on.

“Want me to wash your hair?” His voice is gruff with desire.

God, I used to love it when he played with my hair. The best foreplay.

“Yes,” I murmur, and he lays me back in the water to get my hair soaked. Then he keeps me close as he pours shampoo into his hand. It’s mine from the last time I bathed in here.

The lavender-and-vanilla scent swirls around us as his fingers dig into my hair, massaging the shampoo into the roots. There’s something about the caress, rub, and scratch of his big hands along my scalp that makes my body liquify. I sink deeper into him.

“Good?” he rasps.

“You know it is.” As he kneads my head, I kiss his cheek, and when I go to draw back, his lips catch mine.

“God,” he mutters against my ear when we break the kiss, “I just want to bury myself inside you.”

“You can,” I say, rocking against him.

“I don’t come unless you come, and the minute I’m inside you, I’m fucking losing it.” His voice is strained. “I’ll lose it.”

“Maybe I need you inside me to come,” I say, moving against him, trying to entice him to give in.

“Sounds like horny bullshit, Ava.” He sucks under my ear, his broad hand spanning my back, keeping me close.