Page 86 of Lost and Found

He wrapped her tight against his chest, letting her hips rock and her pussy quake. “Good girl.”

Pleasure rippled through her. Power. Femininity. Everything he said he saw in her, everything she’d once known was there, but maybe she’d forgotten. It had been so long since someone had taken care of her.

“Take a shower,” he whispered, making sure she wouldn’t fall over when he stepped away. “I’ll be waiting.”

“You’re ruining me.”

His smile quirked. “My plan, remember?”

Bailey turned to the mirror again. In what world did a man like Wes command orgasms from a curvy woman with real-life responsibilities like her? Except Wes wasn’t shying away from her. She was the one with nerves and hesitations.

Bailey climbed into the hot spray of the shower. The water worked over her keyed-up body, washing away the day and reminding her that the night was still young. Even if it was past 9:00 p.m. That made her laugh, then smile, then want to scream at how on top of the world she felt.

Finally, she pulled herself out of the water, dried off, and a few minutes later stepped out of the steamy bathroom with a towel wrapped around her. He sat on her bed against the headboard, showered, wearing a cotton T-shirt and sweatpants, a book in his hand. She hadn’t even asked him what book had captured his attention. Every time she saw him reading, her ovaries exploded, and she forgot to ask.

His eyes roamed over her as he set the book on the nightstand.

“I didn’t bring clothes into the bathroom.”

Wes moved to her like a heat-seeking missile, as if her explanation for the towel was her begging him to touch her. His hand threaded into her towel-dried hair, and his mouth slanted over hers, desperately hungry and somehow terrifyingly sweet. He swept her into bed. The towel threatened to fall away. “I have condoms.”

“And I have an IUD.”

“Double protection.” He peeled off his shirt.

Her eyes caught on the scars on his shoulder and arm. “That’s where you were shot?”

God, she wasn’t winning any romance awards tonight. That was the last thing she should’ve said. “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.” He rubbed a hand over them as if just remembering they were there. “Yup.”

“Were you scared?” she asked.

“Angry.”

“Oh,” she managed, half laughing. “Yeah, I guess I’d be pissed if someone shot me too.”

“I was the one thing standing between my buddy’s woman and a whole lot of bad. I was outnumbered and in pain, and…” His lips pressed into a thin line. “It’s a hell of a thing to think you’ve let someone down in a way that could shatter their life. So maybe I was scared.”

“Did it turn out okay?”

He nodded.

“You kept your shirt on in New Jersey.”

His smile quirked. “I did.”

“Because of that?” She nodded toward his shoulder.

“Eh, it’s kinda ugly.”

Her lips parted. “Oh, my God. Nothing about you is ugly. Seriously.”

“Okay,” he quietly said as if agreeing to change the subject.

“You know, I had a baby.”

He chuckled. “I am aware.”