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Lila jerked. Busted! His gaze held her in the mirror. Time ticked and he made no effort to cover himself and she didn’t bother leaving. He stood there proud as one corner of his mouth lifted.
The audacity of the man.
Her exit from the situation would only take four, maybe five steps and through the door to salvation from the torment. So why wouldn’t her feet move? He grew hard and his cock pointed at the ceiling. She swallowed the tightness in her throat. Talk about a power high. Her face flooded with warmth and the heat spread downward until it curled deliciously around every nerve ending between her thighs. All she wanted to do was slide her fingers along every contour, every solid muscle of his body, following with her mouth. She hadn’t felt so out of control since the accident and guessed this could be considered the affects from a dry spell. Duke had been the last man she’d had sex with, and she knew she’d been his. Did he miss it as much as she did? Of
course, she knew the answer.
Her gaze locked on the hard proof saluting her. He was the perfect height that if she bent over the sink, he’d have entrance into…
Clearing her throat, she forced her focus on a safer region of his body, yet she couldn’t pinpoint which part wouldn’t provoke some naughty thought. Doing her best, she studied the area between his brows. “I did knock,” she finally said.
He reached to his left and retrieved a towel, wrapping the material around his waist. Her libido whimpered in disappointment. What had she expected? That he’d devour her like he had many times before? A woman could hope. She wouldn’t have turned him away, even if her life had depended on it.
“Is this your habit? Invading someone’s privacy?” Duke removed the pieces of TP and closed the distance between them, and just when she thought he was coming to her, he moved past to the dresser, leaving a fresh soap scent in his trail. “I thought we agreed you’d stay in your own part of the house. Unless you just wanted to check out the goods.”
She saw his ego hadn’t suffered any trauma. Rolling her eyes, she shook her head in disbelief. “Don’t flatter yourself. Although, I must say, one muscle in your body has no problem standing. I guess some things never change.”
He was smiling when he turned to look at her. “And don’t flatter yourself, darlin’. The libido isn’t dead, just too bad we are. Blame the erection on lack of entertainment. It’d happen to anyone.”
“Is that right?” Before she debated the consequences, she took several steps until she stood in front of him and brought her hand up to his chest, sliding one finger along the taut, moist skin. His sex grew past the edge of the towel.
He blinked and his mouth thinned. “What the hell are you doing?”