Tate was cold by the time Shep had emptied his bladder, but his dick was still hard. It was damn near impossible to clear his mind of the image of Lara lounging naked in his private mineral bath, so damn close to him that he could almost touch her.
“Let’s go, buddy,” he urged the puppy, pissed off at himself for getting so worked up over a woman. Shep bounced happily in front of him, eager to get back to a warm environment.
Tate kicked his boots off on the covered porch. He entered the house again and let Shep off his leash, hanging the tether on a hook next to the door. Tate patted the dog. “Good boy.” He didn’t know much about training a puppy, but he hoped a little praise would go a long way toward Shep not making a puddle on his floor.
Tate wandered through the house and stopped by the closed door that led to the hot springs. Was Lara still in there? Was she taking an unordinary length of time, or did he just feel like she was because of his overactive imagination and obsession with her?
She’d been in there for a while—since right after dinner.
“Lara,” he called through the door, fairly certain she wouldn’t hear him. There was a sliding door and a rock path down to the covered springs between them. He turned the handle and pushed on the door, and it sprang open.
She didn’t lock the door.
Feeling both guilty and elated that she trusted him enough to leave the door unlocked, he moved soundlessly through the slider and out to the path that led to the rocky hot springs. His breath seized in his lungs as he rounded the corner.
His gaze found her immediately: she was leaned up against the wall, sitting on one of the rock seats in the spring pool, her eyes closed.
She’s asleep.
He exhaled with a grunt and looked at the pile of clothing next to the pool. She had gone in nude. Tate didn’t think, didn’t debate with himself. He stripped quickly and lowered his naked body into the pool. He couldn’t leave her in the springs asleep, and he didn’t want to startle her. If he was honest with himself, he would probably admit that he wanted to get close to her, but he wasn’t into searching his soul at the moment. Tate couldn’t tear his eyes away from Lara’s sleeping form, the tops of her perfect breasts revealed above the water.
She’s fucking perfect.#p#分页标题#e#
He swept a stray lock of damp hair from her face, and examined her features, so soft and innocent in sleep. Tate ran a gentle finger across her plump, luscious lips and over the soft skin of her cheek because he just couldn’t stop himself from doing it.
He’d had plenty of women in his life. Sure, none of his relationships had been very intense, and they were quickly over because of his past career in Special Forces. Yeah, he’d been going through a period of disinterest since his accident, but that was understandable. Thinking back, his ennui had really started even before he’d gotten injured, and it had continued until the day he met Lara. It was as if his dick had gone from zero to full throttle in a matter of seconds. Why in the hell was he so drawn to this particular woman, a female who could kick ass herself, and probably had no need for the overactive protective instincts that emanated from him every time he looked at her?
He hurt for the pain she’d suffered from losing her parents so young, and then wanted to hurt the guy who had cheated on her. She acted so tough. Actually, she was a strong woman, but there was an underlying softness in Lara that he wanted to reach, needed to touch. He liked her rough edges and her tough exterior, but he wanted her submission, and he wanted her to surrender to him and only to him.
“Wake up, sweetheart,” he whispered roughly in her ear.
She stirred and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Tate.” She sighed softly.
The sound of his name on her lips nearly gutted him completely. Her soft capitulation made his cock harder than it had ever been before. “Wake up, baby.” He wasn’t going to take advantage of her sleepy state. Not that he didn’t want to use her vulnerable state to steal a taste of her lips…but his damn conscience wouldn’t let him.
“I am awake now,” she murmured sensually. She pulled his head down and his lips to hers.
Hell, there was only so much a guy could take, and Tate had reached his limit. His need was reigning supreme.
He captured her lips like a starving man attacked a feast, losing the battle with his conscience while his treacherous mind and body had their own damn celebration.
Lara’s sleepy brain knew exactly who was kissing her, and she opened to Tate like a flower seeking the sunlight. He conquered and cajoled, teased and subdued, plundered her mouth as though he owned it. Lara moaned against his lips; her tongue dueled with his for dominance. She lost, and she reveled in defeat, letting this man who made her feel like a woman command her. He made the rules and she happily followed, intoxicated with not having to think, to just respond. Although he dominated, she’d never felt safer than she did right now, or more desired and wanted.