She held back a snort. “It was a close call but I made it. You’re right. He’s huge. Wanna see?”
His voice cut like a whiplash. “Don’t screw with me, Gen. Flush it in the toilet or I swear to God—”
“Aww, whatcha gonna do? Come on, maybe it’ll help your arachnophobia. I’ll show you.” Grinning, she walked out of the bathroom, holding out the tissue ball in her hand like a present.
“Get that thing away from me!” Gen opened her mouth to tease him, but he looked so freaked out she started to feel bad.
Then she realized she shouldn’t be focused on his face right now.
Because he was naked.
Holy hotness, Batman.
Gen knew he had a great body. The world saw it in billboard color when he modeled boxers, with his badass leather wristbands and nothing else. But seeing him fully exposed in all ways almost made her hit the floor from the sheer weakness in her knees.
Wolfe was amazing.
Rivulets of water slid down a mass of hard muscle. Not an ounce of softness showed on his body. From the eight-pack abs, powerful biceps, and bulky thighs, he was lean, mean, and toned. Deep olive skin. Dark hair sprinkled his chest and narrowed to the mouthwatering line going lower. His tattoo crawled over his body like a gorgeous painting. Her gaze dropped to the nest of dark curls between his thighs.
Oh. My. God.
He was pierced.
She almost gasped at the silver barbell that pierced his cock, which was impressive and steadily rising as she kept her gaze locked on target. Heat twisted through her body, and her mouth grew dry as she imagined her fingers playing with him, watching him grow hard under her ministrations. Imagined her tongue flicking the barbell, making him groan. Imagined what he’d feel like buried deep inside her. Would the metal hit her G-spot? Tickle her clit as he thrust back and forth? The room blurred and her fingers clenched with the need to touch.
“Gen.”
Her name rasped in the air. She watched him grow bigger, longer, surge forward in a massive erection under her hot gaze. “Yeah?” she murmured, fascinated with the male beauty and strength before her.
“Gotta stop looking at me like that, sweetheart. I’m dying here. I need a towel.”
She blinked. “Oh. Right. A towel.” Her tongue snuck out to wet her bottom lip. He groaned as if he was in agony. “Sorry.”
Gen didn’t move. He was so hard. She ached to stroke the tip and know what he felt like. Clasp her hand around the root and pull up and down slowly. Drop to her knees and open her mouth and take him deep inside. Would he taste as clean and delicious as he smelled? Or would he have an earthy, musky flavor with his arousal?
She jerked as he said her name again, more forcefully. “Yeah?”
“If you don’t get me a towel now, I’m gonna lose it.”
Oh, she was so tempted. Stroll over, grasp his cock, and make him forget for a while. Make them both forget. But when she finally lifted her gaze, there was more than lust and need in his eyes.
There was desperation.
With numb motions, she walked into the bathroom, grabbed the towel, and brought it over. He wrapped it around his hips and held it with one fist, as if afraid she’d try to yank it off him. Color flooded her cheeks. How humiliating. She must’ve been staring like some horny teenager looking to get rid of her virginity.
“Sorry.” Gen forced a smile. “Got carried away.”
His hand shot out. Grasped her chin and tilted her head up so she was forced to look at him. Blue eyes caught and held hers in a grip so tight and so fierce, the breath was forced out of her lungs. Raw hunger vibrated from his gaze.
“Don’t ever apologize to me again for anything we do together.”
She stared back at him, helpless. Waiting for him to make the decision for both of them, since she was too far gone to say no. If he reached for her, there’d be no turning back. One kiss, one touch, and they’d be in bed. Naked. Together.
Gen trembled. Waited.
He dropped his hand.
“Thanks for killing the spider.”
She couldn’t answer. He walked past her and shut the bathroom door. With shaking knees, she collapsed onto the sofa and wondered what the hell she was going to do.
eighteen
WOLFE SMILED AT the woman across the table. This was their official third date. The one that tipped the scales into sex . . . or not sex. So far, Brit was screaming yes, and he was glad.
Yep. Real glad.
Gen’s date was tomorrow night. They’d already discussed the mechanics of disappearing for the night, so he was set to bring Brit to his apartment in Manhattan and get his groove on. The cheap cliché sounded garish in his head. Maybe he should stop thinking so loud to himself and concentrate on his date.