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A Little Night Muse(21)

By:Jessa Slade


                Not likely.

                He stood in the entry next to Wolly, both of them staring down                     the hallway toward the bedrooms. Josh had left Adelyn a clean T-shirt and a pair                     of sweat pants. His own, of course; he had nothing else to give her.

                “I’m back,” he called. Not too loud. Didn’t want to seem like                     he thought she would care, but he didn’t want to scare her either.

                “Josh?”

                Wolly pricked his ears, and Josh almost thought his did the                     same. It was the first time she had said his name aloud, and the single                     syllable—even partly muffled by the doorway between them—reverberated in his                     body like a hammer strike on an anvil.

                Her voice continued, getting a little louder. “I was                     wondering...”

                She stepped out from the master bedroom. Light from his bedroom                     poured through the doorway and turned the air around her damp skin into a misty                     halo.

                And apparently sucked all the moisture from his mouth. He                     swallowed hard against his tight throat.

                She hadn’t used the towel he left out for her. She had wrapped                     herself in his towel, which had seemingly shrunk                     since his last use. It strained across her breasts and barely skimmed her lush                     thighs. Against the pale fluff of cotton, her dusky skin looked like some rich,                     sweet, decadent, caramel coffee drink that no cowboy should drink.

                But he was so damn thirsty.

                She held her hand out toward him. “I need you for a moment,                     Josh.”

                Considering the way his cock was pounding a countdown on his                     zipper, a moment was about all she’d get from him. But he could not resist, not                     with the scent of her water-warmed body drifting toward him. He padded down the                     hall, his steps silent on the smooth old wood.

                Her green gaze teased him beneath her dark lashes, but she did                     not lower her hand. “Here.” She backed into the bedroom. He followed as if a                     rein stretched between them.

                She turned to the bed, drenched in snow-bounced sun from the                     window and big skylight. His entire body shook with disbelief. Was he                     dreaming?