Read Online Dangerous Surrender by Carrie Kelly - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Carrie Kelly
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room with a showerhead and toilet. I stripped off my clothes and draped them over the railing. Cold water flowed from the faucet when I turned it on, so I waited. And waited. And waited, but it didn't get any warmer. Not only was I tired and naked. Now I had to take a cold shower.
But you're alive, Matilda. And Jack's there to help. Jack. Dammit.
I creaked open the bathroom door and peeked into our room. "The water doesn't heat up, does it?" I asked.
Jack sat in the only chair, his shirt discarded next to our meager pile of luggage. His golden skin taut over his powerful muscular form. Just looking at him assaulted my body with lust.
The secretive smirk spread across his lips. "In a moment, love."
Before I asked what he meant, someone knocked at our room. I pulled the bathroom door shut and took a deep breath.
A cold shower it is.
Right before I stepped under the icy stream, Jack burst into the room. I covered my breasts and mound as best I could, frowning under the flickering fluorescent lights. Talk about unflattering!
"Why can't you knock?” I demanded.
He held up a large steaming basin and set it on the bathroom floor. "Because I got this, and I intend to use it.”
Without shutting the door, he slipped his pants down his slender hips, revealing the brown curls and glorious length of his cock. My heart quickened as his muscular thighs and sculpted calves stepped free of the material. The side of his taut ass was visible as he nudged the basin across the floor.
Fuck me. He looked like some kind of god.
Without a word he took a washcloth and dipped it in the hot water, rubbing it with a fresh bar of soap. His eyes met mine, a hungry desire shining from them.
I backed into the cold tile wall, and my breath caught in my throat.
"Trying to run away, love?" he asked and moved towards me.
"No, but I prefer to bathe by myself!" I said and squared my shoulders although my skin flushed. In the light he could see every bulge, ripple and dimple I tried to hide. Wonderful.
Jack leaned into me, trapping me between his powerful arms. Taking the washcloth, he gently rubbed it across my dirt-smeared cheek. "Well, I'm going to bathe you this time, Mattie."
"But –"
His lips cut me off, their searing heat silencing me. Moaning into the kiss, butterflies fluttered in my stomach as my pussy wept for his touch.
No. I needed to resist this . Fisting my hands at my sides, I leaned into the chilly tile for support instead of grabbing onto him.
Pulling back, he smiled. "It’s not up for discussion, love."
He dipped the cloth again and brought it to my face, scrubbing it over my shoulders, arms and chest. The warm water soothed my aching muscles as his gentle caresses enticed my body with need. I squeezed my eyes shut – looking at him wouldn’t help matters – it would only make me want him more.
Calloused fingers danced across my breasts, the heat of the cloth almost unbearable against my feverish flesh. Taking a deep breath, I tried to bury the moan begging to escape my throat. Each stroke existed somewhere between gentle and rough – the slight scratch of the cloth, his scolding fingers and shivers of passion that danced across my skin at his every touch.
Tentatively, I opened my eyes. Jack knelt on the tile before me, the washcloth gripped loosely in his hands as he scrubbed my stomach with delicate grace. I didn’t want to see the look of disgust in his eyes, but I couldn’t turn away from his bent head – the way his newly dark hair tickled the edge of his golden neck.
After a dip into the hot basin, he slipped the cloth over my skin until my body was rich with soap suds, glistening and clean.
“Turn around, love,” he breathed, and I obeyed.
Work rough hands smoothed over my back. His calloused fingers pressing into my tense muscles with perfect accuracy. I rested my palms and forehead against the cool tile wall, willing myself to relax and drink in the moment.
Jack’s bathing you, Tilda. This is a
But you're alive, Matilda. And Jack's there to help. Jack. Dammit.
I creaked open the bathroom door and peeked into our room. "The water doesn't heat up, does it?" I asked.
Jack sat in the only chair, his shirt discarded next to our meager pile of luggage. His golden skin taut over his powerful muscular form. Just looking at him assaulted my body with lust.
The secretive smirk spread across his lips. "In a moment, love."
Before I asked what he meant, someone knocked at our room. I pulled the bathroom door shut and took a deep breath.
A cold shower it is.
Right before I stepped under the icy stream, Jack burst into the room. I covered my breasts and mound as best I could, frowning under the flickering fluorescent lights. Talk about unflattering!
"Why can't you knock?” I demanded.
He held up a large steaming basin and set it on the bathroom floor. "Because I got this, and I intend to use it.”
Without shutting the door, he slipped his pants down his slender hips, revealing the brown curls and glorious length of his cock. My heart quickened as his muscular thighs and sculpted calves stepped free of the material. The side of his taut ass was visible as he nudged the basin across the floor.
Fuck me. He looked like some kind of god.
Without a word he took a washcloth and dipped it in the hot water, rubbing it with a fresh bar of soap. His eyes met mine, a hungry desire shining from them.
I backed into the cold tile wall, and my breath caught in my throat.
"Trying to run away, love?" he asked and moved towards me.
"No, but I prefer to bathe by myself!" I said and squared my shoulders although my skin flushed. In the light he could see every bulge, ripple and dimple I tried to hide. Wonderful.
Jack leaned into me, trapping me between his powerful arms. Taking the washcloth, he gently rubbed it across my dirt-smeared cheek. "Well, I'm going to bathe you this time, Mattie."
"But –"
His lips cut me off, their searing heat silencing me. Moaning into the kiss, butterflies fluttered in my stomach as my pussy wept for his touch.
No. I needed to resist this . Fisting my hands at my sides, I leaned into the chilly tile for support instead of grabbing onto him.
Pulling back, he smiled. "It’s not up for discussion, love."
He dipped the cloth again and brought it to my face, scrubbing it over my shoulders, arms and chest. The warm water soothed my aching muscles as his gentle caresses enticed my body with need. I squeezed my eyes shut – looking at him wouldn’t help matters – it would only make me want him more.
Calloused fingers danced across my breasts, the heat of the cloth almost unbearable against my feverish flesh. Taking a deep breath, I tried to bury the moan begging to escape my throat. Each stroke existed somewhere between gentle and rough – the slight scratch of the cloth, his scolding fingers and shivers of passion that danced across my skin at his every touch.
Tentatively, I opened my eyes. Jack knelt on the tile before me, the washcloth gripped loosely in his hands as he scrubbed my stomach with delicate grace. I didn’t want to see the look of disgust in his eyes, but I couldn’t turn away from his bent head – the way his newly dark hair tickled the edge of his golden neck.
After a dip into the hot basin, he slipped the cloth over my skin until my body was rich with soap suds, glistening and clean.
“Turn around, love,” he breathed, and I obeyed.
Work rough hands smoothed over my back. His calloused fingers pressing into my tense muscles with perfect accuracy. I rested my palms and forehead against the cool tile wall, willing myself to relax and drink in the moment.
Jack’s bathing you, Tilda. This is a
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