Holiday Sparks by Taryn Elliott Page A

apart. “Shower.”
    She threw her arm over her eyes. Exhaustion couldn’t quite dispel the afterglow. Tomorrow would be soon enough to put herself back together. “That requires walking.”
    He hopped off the bed and she cracked an eye at him. “How can you be so energetic? You were dead just a minute ago.”
    “Sex energizes me.”
    She groaned and rolled onto her stomach. “This is never going to work out.”
    He popped her on the butt.
    “Hey!”
    “Sure it will. I’m more than willing to crawl right back into this bed with you after we have a shower. My energy only lasts about ten minutes.”
    She groaned. “No, you go.”
    He crouched in front of her. “Don’t make me carry you.”
    “You wouldn’t.” She wasn’t a tiny girl. The man was all talk.
    He dragged her arm over his shoulder and hauled her forward, cupping his arm under knees.
    “Ben!”
    He swung her out of the bed and across the room before she could squeak out a protest. The fact that he didn’t grunt or even stagger under her weight left her breathless all over again. He set her down next to his wide glass shower that mirrored hers. Being nearly six feet tall left baths out of her budget so she’d opted for ultra-large showers in her duplex plan.
    He set the dials to a lukewarm spray and opened the door for her. “You look like the type that’s going to hog the water.”
    She grinned up at him. She could keep this light. “Yep.”
    He leaned against the tiled wall and watched her under hooded eyes.
    “You are not going to just stand there and watch me, are you?”
    “Yep.”
    “Here, have some water.” She moved aside to give him room.
    He shook his head. “Suds and freckles are going to be my new favorite attractions in this shower.”
    She averted her gaze. He was talking as though he wanted it to be more than one night, but that was just silly. They lived on opposite schedules and had nothing in common. She quickly sudsed up a washcloth and tried not to think about how well they worked together or fit together.
    “You’re a million miles away.”
    Instead of answering, she put her face under the spray and scooped the hair out of her face. She jumped as his hands slid around her waist.
    “We’ll go slow.”
    She covered his hand with hers. “Nothing about this—” She closed her eyes because it felt too good when he touched her and swallowed back all the emotions she just couldn’t deal with. All of them were too new, too much, and too mixed up with sex to comprehend yet. “Nothing about us has been slow.”
    He tucked his chin into her shoulder and held her tight. He seemed to know that now wasn’t the time to talk about them. Instead he took her washcloth and soaped up her back and then her front, his hands achingly tender on her sore breasts and a little more firm on her shrieking back muscles.
    How did he know her body so completely after just a few hours?
    He crouched in front of her and she backed up. No, that was too intimate. She took the washcloth back from him. He brushed his nose along her belly. “I love that you smell like me.”
    She tipped her head back and closed her eyes. Gosh, everything about him was earthy and sexual and lacking in pretense. He gently nudged her legs apart and took the washcloth back. He washed her, tracing his thumb around the sensitive knot of muscles inside her.
    “Ben.”
    “Shh.” He washed the soap away and leaned into her and sipped.
    Her hand slapped against the tile as he soothed her with his tongue and lips. Her release was so soft and sweet that she couldn’t do anything but push his hair out of his eyes. His face was heavy with scruff and dotted with water, and his lips glossy with her. He stood, but before he could sluice the water and her release off, she pulled him down and tasted herself on his tongue.
    He drew her back, his eyes already fired up. And again, she wanted to suffuse herself in all the energy that was Ben, but her body simply wasn’t willing. She