Exposure (8 page)

She drew in a breath, and his gaze dropped
to her nipples with the movement. She had perfect breasts. Small,
perky, and they'd fit in his hands. If she let him touch. Rose-pink
in color, they begged to be sucked. Bit.

This wasn't helping. He was growing hard
again. Already. They needed a shower, but he wanted her again
desperately. An idea bloomed.

"Stay tonight. We can test things out over
the weekend."

Her gaze met his, more mocha than cocoa in
the dim light of his room. Slowly, she nodded.

Fighting a grin, he failed. "Come on. I have
an…exercise for us."

Her brows lifted. "I draw the line at
exercise."

There she was. There was his Raven.

"You'll like this one." Gently urging her
off the bed, he took her hand and led her into his adjoining master
bath. He started the water in the tub and turned to her.

She was really something, standing there
naked in full glory and not an ounce of embarrassment or
insecurity. He hated it when women hid their beauty. She was taking
in the room with curious eyes and, for the first time, he wondered
about the design. It wasn't as if anyone ever got to see the
room.

The bathtub was big enough to seat six,
complete with jets, but he typically used the shower just on the
other side of the counter. The heated stone benches and
three-dimensional sprays were worth the small fortune. Not that
money was an issue. There was a his and hers vanity in slate, even
though he never had a "her." The floors and walls a sage tile.

"Do you like it?"

She looked at him, pink tingeing her cheeks.
"Yes. It's like a spa. I love the colors."

Seeing the tub was nearly full, he gestured
for her to get in.

"You want me to take a bath?"

"Us. I want
us
to bathe together." He
waited for her argument, but she didn't offer one.

Stepping in, she went to the farthest corner
and moaned as she sank under the hot water, neck deep. He turned
the dimmer lights on over the tub and clicked off the harsh vanity
lighting. Fully aroused, he climbed in and took the spot opposite
her. She watched his movements, gaze dipping to his shaft and
exploring his body.

"You're comfortable with this?"

She shrugged. "Oddly, yes. In most aspects
of intimacy, I'm fine, until it gets down to the actual deed. I've
never been big on touch, though. That's what initiates panic."

He nodded, wondering how she got to hate
touch so much. He loved using his hands, so the restraint was
immeasurably difficult. His hand dragged over his shaft, wanting
inside her again. She watched the movement, teeth sunk into her
bottom lip.

"It drives me insane when you do that."

She tilted her head, the tips of her black
hair floating on the water. "Do what?"

"Bite your lip. I want to follow the same
path and lick the ache away." He studied her. "You do it a lot, but
never so much as you have the past week."

She offered a slight shake of her head.
"What is this exercise you wanted us to do?"

His shaft thickened just imagining. "Touch
yourself. Make yourself come for me. I want to see how you like to
be touched and where, want to know what makes you mindless."

Her red lips parted and a ragged breath
escaped. The blush from the water's heat added to the arousal in
her cheeks. Her nipples pebbled. She wasn't unaffected, wanted to
do what he asked. "Why?" she breathed.

"Call it a trust exercise." And one day
soon, she was going to let him do the same with his fingers that
she'd do with hers. "Dip your fingers under the water, Raven. Show
me what pleases you."

After a moment, she swallowed and moved her
hands to her breasts, cupping them. Her eyes closed and her head
fell back as she arched into them. So fucking beautiful. He wanted
his camera.

"Open your eyes. Watch me as you pleasure
yourself."

Moaning, her lashes fell to half mast and
her gaze locked on his, dark with arousal. One hand slid lower,
over her taught belly to the small patch of dark hair. She shaved
or waxed he'd noticed earlier, leaving only a small triangle.

"Spread your legs. Let me watch."

Responding to his low voice on command, her
knees fell open, exposing her to him through the clear water. Her
fingers spread her folds, her thumb flicking her swollen clit. Even
through the water he could see she was slick, wanting. She moaned,
her head drifting back.

"No. Eyes on me." He fisted his shaft,
stroking harder, faster. "Does that feel good, baby?"

"Yes."

"How good?"

She moaned. "So good."

His balls tightened. "Imagine they're my
fingers touching you. Dip a finger inside, baby. Are you hot and
tight?"

"Yes. And wet. So wet for you."

Fuck. He could come right now and still be
hard. "Pinch your nipple with your other hand. Yes," he hissed. Two
strokes and he'd be done. He wanted them to come together. "Massage
your clit. I want you to come for me."

Her breathing grew shallow, breasts rising
and falling in the water, sending ripples across the space toward
him. Her eyes went black with lust, lost in her pleasure, and it
took more restraint than he had to wait her out. Faster, her
fingers worked. Over her clit, in and out of her channel.

"Come, baby."

She cried out, throwing her head back and
tensing, jerking against her fingers. Her lips parted, and he came
unglued. He groaned, seed hitting his chest in spurts, his body
taut with spasm. He stroked twice more through the aftershocks and
watched her go limp.

"Fuck, Raven. That was…amazing."

With her eyes still closed, one corner of
her mouth quirked. "Not so bad yourself, Noah. Watching you stroke
yourself is fantasy material."

Death of him. No doubt, she'd be the death
of him.

"Scoot a little closer."

She opened her eyes in question, but shoved
off the tub and complied.

When their knees brushed, he tentatively put
his hands on her waist. She didn't shy away, so he slid them down
her hips and to her thighs, parting them to wrap her legs around
his waist. He grabbed a small pitcher from the ledge and dumped the
potpourri his maid refreshed weekly onto the floor.

"Tilt your head back." With a raised brow,
she did, and he filled the pitcher with water, pouring it over her
hair. So many fantasies involved her hair. Adding shampoo, he
lathered the soft strands and massaged her scalp when she didn't
show signs of duress.

"That feels good."

"Yeah? Never done this before."

She moaned deep in her throat. "You have
great hands."

He paused for just a moment. "You have no
idea." Refilling the pitcher, he rinsed the suds out.

She blinked at him through wet lashes, dark
as midnight. The honey flecks were back in her irises, a sultry mix
with the warm chocolate. Reaching for a bar of soap, she held it up
in question.

His jaw clenched, but he nodded.

Running her hands over his neck, she worked
the bar into a lather. She stroked his shoulders, down his chest.
Her gaze followed the movement, appreciation in her eyes.

"What sets off the panic?"

She avoided his gaze, rinsing her hands. "I
don't know." She used the pitcher to rinse the suds from him and
then poured water over his head. Silent, she washed his hair. She
had pretty damn amazing hands, too. The tips of her fingers
massaged his scalp, the nails lightly raking.

Once she'd rinsed his hair, he laid his
hands on her forearms. "You let me touch you in the living room.
You're letting me do it now."

Drawing in a deep breath, she looked at his
chest. "Some contact from Nicole or my mother doesn't bother me.
Hugging or pats on the arm. It's more of an aversion than a
dislike. Before your proposal, you and I didn't touch often. Maybe
because we've known each other so long it failed to make me
uncomfortable." She shrugged. "I liked it. Until…"

"Until I laid on top of you."

She met his gaze. "Yeah."

Without taking his eyes from hers, he
reached for the soap and lathered his hands. He held them up before
going forward. "Just tell me if it's too much."

She nodded and worked a swallow.

Starting with her shoulders, he slid his
hands down her arms, careful to avoid any intimate area. Her lips
parted on a sigh. Encouraged, he traced her throat and collarbone,
moving south and keenly watching for panic. To his surprise, her
eyes went hazy with lust, her breathing shallow. How could she be
so receptive one moment and freak out the next? It was driving him
insane, not just the need to have her, but the need to release her
from the fear. He traced around her nipples. She arched into
him.

"Like that?"

Nodding, she closed her eyes.

Cupping her breasts in his palms, he closed
his eyes. She was nothing like he'd imagined. She was softer,
responsive, and there was no way he could've possibly gauged just
how much she'd affect him. Part of it was their deep friendship,
the way he cared about her, but having her like this…There was
nothing comparable. His own heart started to pound.

He opened his eyes to find her staring at
him. Something flickered in her gaze, part alarm, part…hope.
Sucking in a breath, he shook his head.

He rinsed his hands and then her body. "Time
to get out."

She stared at him another beat and then
nodded. He let her towel off before climbing out and drying
himself. Having her go to bed aroused could only help break the
ice, so leaving them both unsatisfied after round two in the bath
seemed like a good plan. She'd ache and want and perhaps make her
own move toward more.

Making their way into the bedroom, he picked
up the remote to turn on the fireplace and close the drapes.

When they'd swished shut, she touched her
throat. "Can we leave them open?"

That's right. She had a thing for enclosed
rooms. Without a word, he pushed the button to reopen them and shut
off the light. He tugged the sheets down and held them up for her.
She climbed in, taking one side of the bed and laying stiffly on
her back. Swear to God, he was getting a picture of her in his bed
before the month was through. The contrast of her dark hair against
white sheets, her red lips and pink nipples…

He wondered if his dick would ever go back
to normal.

Sliding between the sheets, he lay on his
side, facing her. Firelight flickered over her profile, her wide
eyes as she stared at the ceiling. If it was the last thing he did,
if it took every hour of their thirty days together, he was going
to wipe the hesitancy from her features. A sexual creature by
nature, she was fantasy wrapped in daydream. Time she opened
herself to all she was capable of being.

Unsure of proper bed-sharing etiquette, he
sighed. He wasn't the cuddle type. Smothering in any form stole his
breath. But this was different. This was…"Raven."

She turned her head.

"Come over here."

When she hesitated, he rolled to his back in
the hopes that the position was non-threatening. After a moment,
she scooted closer and rested her cheek in the crook of his arm.
There was an awkward shuffle of arms and legs before they finally
settled with her hand on his chest and leg covering his thigh, with
his hand low on her back.

Silence stretched while he took stock of the
situation. Her soft, warm body fit against the hard edges of his,
as if made to be there. The scent of him clung to her, instead of
her usual rain, and he found himself oddly liking it. His chest
didn't restrict and he didn't want to back away for a semblance of
space.

"This isn't so bad."

She laughed, pressing her face into his arm.
"Goodnight."

***

R
aven opened her
eyes and blinked at the dusky light streaming in through the
balcony doors. She stilled and forced air into her lungs. She was
at Noah's and everything was fine. And wow. She'd slept through the
night. While sharing a bed. With Noah.

The night before sped through her mind and
an ache began between her thighs as she smiled. Raising onto her
elbows, she noted his side of the bed was empty. The scent of
coffee filled the room and a clatter sounded from the kitchen.
Rolling onto her back, she ran her hands through her tangled hair.
She probably looked like a mess.

Stepping out of bed, she padded into the
bathroom to relieve herself and looked in the mirror. Well, someone
looked properly screwed. Red cheeks, swollen lips, whisker burn on
her neck. She grinned. Finding some toothpaste, she brushed her
teeth with her finger and splashed water on her face before going
in search of her purse. She brushed the knots from her hair and
tied it up in a loose ponytail with a band.

Then, wondering what to wear, she grabbed
his T-shirt from the floor and shrugged into it. Pressing the
fabric to her nose, she inhaled the spicy scent of him before
realizing that was silly and…girly. She loved the smell of him,
though. Like Christmas or warm baked goodies.

Pausing on the spot, she questioned what was
happening to her. She didn't spend the night with her lovers or
wear their clothing or get all soft when smelling them. She'd
certainly never let them to touch her or allowed herself to drop
her barriers to do something as intimate as bathe with them.

And hell. She'd promised to stay the
weekend, maybe even the whole month…

Striding out of the room, she made her way
through the living room and to the kitchen, where the sight of him
stopped her dead. Wearing nothing but a loose pair of flannel
pajama bottoms, he sat at the counter on a stool, phone to his ear
and back to her. A cup of coffee was cradled in his large hand,
perched halfway to his mouth.

Seeing the soft light skin over the hard
muscles of his back and shoulders made her ache to touch him. Run
her hands down his sinfully yummy body. Watch him come undone
beneath her like he'd done last night.