because he loved the silky feel of her next to his skin.
“Eric, put me down,” Tina demanded, curling her arms around his neck.
Eric caught a rough breath when her reaction caused her breasts to rub against his chest. Savoring the sensation of her nipples poking into him, he carried her into the bathroom. Kicking the door shut, he reluctantly set her on her feet, sliding her body sensuously against his.
“You are a tyrant,” Tina said, but didn’t protest when his encircling arms drew her closer to him.
“You feel good,” he murmured into her hair. “Smell good, too. Like a woman who has been thoroughly loved.”
Tina pulled her head back to give him a look of distaste. “You mean I smell like raw sex.”
“Yeah.” Eric grinned. “Turns me on.”
“Big deal,” she retorted. “Even with my limited experience of you, I’d say it doesn’t take much.”
“Now that’s where you’re wrong,” Eric said, looking offended, as he reached inside the shower to turn on the water taps. “I’m not easy, you know,” he went on, in a voice raised above the sound of gushing water.
“At the moment,” she drawled, blatantly staring at a point below his waist, “I’m forced to admit that you are really very hard.”
“And getting harder by the second,” Eric confessed, his grin turning wicked. Testing the temperature mix, he coiled an arm around her waist and, hauling her with him, stepped into the tub, beneath the spray of water.
“Eric!” Tina screeched, sputtering as the spray filled her mouth. “Do you want to drown me?”
“No.” Eric chuckled and reached for the soap. “I want to lather you...all over.”
Tina gave him a militant look. “Okay, but on one condition,” she said adamantly.
“And that is?” Eric arched one tawny eyebrow.
Her brown eyes gleamed with inner laughter. “That I get to lather you all over.”
“You drive a hard bargain, woman, but you leave me little choice.” A contrived frown creased his brow as he held up the single bar of soap. “The only problem now is—who goes first?” he asked in a tone of consternation, marveling at the intensity of excitement the silly byplay was stirring inside him—and outside, too, come to that.
“Me.” Tina made a grab for the soap.
Eric straightened his longer arms, holding the bar aloft, inches above her reach, laughing while at the same time thrilling to the feel of her wet body sliding against his.
How could this be? he asked himself, confounded by the strength of his body’s response. He was thirty-three years old, for pity’s sake. After the double workout he and Tina had put each other through, Eric would have thought he’d be flat on his back, physically and mentally exhausted, not stimulated, ready and eager to repeat the exercise.
Yet here he was, renewed life surging inside him with each stroke of his lathered hands on Tina’s water-slicked body, quivering in response to the glide of her soapy hands on his aroused flesh.
It was unreal. But it was fun.
The baffling question was...was it the circumstances, the availability of the woman? Or was it the woman herself? Eric had a scary feeling that it was the woman herself.
But, damn, the woman herself felt wonderful, every slippery, slidy inch of her.
Despite the confining enclosure, and the awkward positioning, the pleasure mutually derived from the erotic encounter was bone deep and infinitely satisfying.
“I don’t believe this,” Tina said in tones of combined confusion and amazement.
Join the club, Eric thought wryly, grasping her waist to lift her from the tub.
“Does kind of blow the mind, doesn’t it?” he said, ignoring his own water-slick condition in favor of vigorously applying a towel to her dripping-wet hair.
Tina’s reply sounded like mumbled gibberish muffled by the folds of the towel.
“What?” Eric lifted a corner of the cloth to peer at her. “I didn’t hear you.”
“I said, you are smothering me,” Tina groused,
“Eric, put me down,” Tina demanded, curling her arms around his neck.
Eric caught a rough breath when her reaction caused her breasts to rub against his chest. Savoring the sensation of her nipples poking into him, he carried her into the bathroom. Kicking the door shut, he reluctantly set her on her feet, sliding her body sensuously against his.
“You are a tyrant,” Tina said, but didn’t protest when his encircling arms drew her closer to him.
“You feel good,” he murmured into her hair. “Smell good, too. Like a woman who has been thoroughly loved.”
Tina pulled her head back to give him a look of distaste. “You mean I smell like raw sex.”
“Yeah.” Eric grinned. “Turns me on.”
“Big deal,” she retorted. “Even with my limited experience of you, I’d say it doesn’t take much.”
“Now that’s where you’re wrong,” Eric said, looking offended, as he reached inside the shower to turn on the water taps. “I’m not easy, you know,” he went on, in a voice raised above the sound of gushing water.
“At the moment,” she drawled, blatantly staring at a point below his waist, “I’m forced to admit that you are really very hard.”
“And getting harder by the second,” Eric confessed, his grin turning wicked. Testing the temperature mix, he coiled an arm around her waist and, hauling her with him, stepped into the tub, beneath the spray of water.
“Eric!” Tina screeched, sputtering as the spray filled her mouth. “Do you want to drown me?”
“No.” Eric chuckled and reached for the soap. “I want to lather you...all over.”
Tina gave him a militant look. “Okay, but on one condition,” she said adamantly.
“And that is?” Eric arched one tawny eyebrow.
Her brown eyes gleamed with inner laughter. “That I get to lather you all over.”
“You drive a hard bargain, woman, but you leave me little choice.” A contrived frown creased his brow as he held up the single bar of soap. “The only problem now is—who goes first?” he asked in a tone of consternation, marveling at the intensity of excitement the silly byplay was stirring inside him—and outside, too, come to that.
“Me.” Tina made a grab for the soap.
Eric straightened his longer arms, holding the bar aloft, inches above her reach, laughing while at the same time thrilling to the feel of her wet body sliding against his.
How could this be? he asked himself, confounded by the strength of his body’s response. He was thirty-three years old, for pity’s sake. After the double workout he and Tina had put each other through, Eric would have thought he’d be flat on his back, physically and mentally exhausted, not stimulated, ready and eager to repeat the exercise.
Yet here he was, renewed life surging inside him with each stroke of his lathered hands on Tina’s water-slicked body, quivering in response to the glide of her soapy hands on his aroused flesh.
It was unreal. But it was fun.
The baffling question was...was it the circumstances, the availability of the woman? Or was it the woman herself? Eric had a scary feeling that it was the woman herself.
But, damn, the woman herself felt wonderful, every slippery, slidy inch of her.
Despite the confining enclosure, and the awkward positioning, the pleasure mutually derived from the erotic encounter was bone deep and infinitely satisfying.
“I don’t believe this,” Tina said in tones of combined confusion and amazement.
Join the club, Eric thought wryly, grasping her waist to lift her from the tub.
“Does kind of blow the mind, doesn’t it?” he said, ignoring his own water-slick condition in favor of vigorously applying a towel to her dripping-wet hair.
Tina’s reply sounded like mumbled gibberish muffled by the folds of the towel.
“What?” Eric lifted a corner of the cloth to peer at her. “I didn’t hear you.”
“I said, you are smothering me,” Tina groused,
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