Page 197 of Rogue Riders Duet

“You have to go,” I say, finally finding my voice beneath the blush threatening to incinerate me. “I stink.”

Luc tilts his head, his easy grin back on his face, like I said something adorable instead of humiliating. “You so don’t stink.”

I squeak as he leans in suddenly and nips the spot just under my jaw, hard enough to send a sharp jolt down my spine and heat straight between my thighs.

“Luc!” I gasp, part scandalized, part desperate as I clench my thighs together.

“What?” He chuckles, nose brushing the spot he just assaulted. “You asked me to bite you.”

“I didn’t mean right now!”

He kisses the same spot lazily. “Timing is subjective.”

“Great. Philosophy in the bathroom. That’s definitely what I need.” I push at his chest. “Thanks for the bite. Now get out.”

“Nope.” He stays right where he is. “I’m gonna help you.” He cuts off my mounting argument with a look. “You need to keep that hand dry, non? How do you plan to wash yourself? Your hair? Let me help.”

I want to protest, but the words tangle with how badly I actually do want him here.

“Luc…” I start, white-knuckling the towel. “You just found out I don’t have a dick. I’m not sure we’re at the ‘you get to see my lady parts’ stage of the relationship yet.”

I mean it as a joke—mostly—but Luc doesn’t laugh.

His gaze sharpens, his mouth twitching like he’s trying not to smirk. “Relationship, huh?”

I groan. “Don’t start. You know what I meant.”

“Yeah,” he says, his smile spreading now, cocky and sweet all at once. “I do. And firstly…” He leans in and grazes my cheek with his lips, voice dipping lower. “I already saw everything when I walked in, and I really enjoyed the view.”

I roll my eyes, but he’s not done.

“And secondly…” he continues, pulling back and straightening his shoulders, “… like I told you, I’m a multi-purpose friend. I can help you take a shower when you’re injured without the funny business.”

I snort. “Last time you said there would be no funny business, we almost fucked.”

His grin turns wicked. “So it wasn’t just me, hmm?”

I scowl at him, but the expression slips away when he peels off his shirt.

Which would be fine.

Except it’s Luc.

And he’s built like a goddamn statue. Arms, chest, thighs, that V. A six-pack, no, eight-pack, what the actual hell. His torso is sculpted like he’s carved out of trouble. Lean muscle, broad shoulders, the faintest trail of hair disappearing into the waistband of his sweatpants. Then those go, too, and he’s left standing in nothing but black boxers. And yes, my eyes follow that trail all the way down to where those boxers are doing a very poor job of hiding the fact that this man is very much a man.

My gaze snaps back up to his heat-filled eyes.

“I’m keeping those on for your sake,” he says shamelessly. “But say the word, and they’re gone if you need a better look.”

“Nope. No.” I back up a step, pointing a finger at him. “You’re not going to shower with me, Luc.”

All flirtation drains from Luc’s face like someone flipped a switch. “Hey, if you don’t want that, I can go grab Dane or my maman. I think Piper is around somewhere too. I’m sorry, I just wanted to help and not make you think I just want to fuck you. You’re injured, and we have to talk about a lot of things before anything happens, so if you don’t want me here, I get it. I⁠—”

His words tumble out fast and clumsily, his accent even more pronounced than usual, and my heart aches because he’s still here.

Even after all the lies and secrets.

And I can’t listen to one more word of his sweet, over-apologetic rambling, so I reach out and press a finger to his lips, making him freeze.