by Vivian Arend
He offered an exaggerated wink that set her off laughing.
She slid her hands up until she could link her fingers behind his neck, close and safe at the same time. “You know for us not doing anything other than kissing, we sure do find ourselves in this position a lot,” she teased.
Guilt drifted over his face. “I’m not rushing you, really I’m not,” he said, rubbing her lower back gently. “But I figured if you got comfy being close, it wasn’t a bad thing. I like having you in my arms.”
“I like being here. I like getting hugs.” She turned her head and rested her cheek against his broad chest, and another wave of affection for him surged. She was safe, she was protected—things that a man who was important to her should provide.
They got quiet, until there was nothing but the sound of the birds and the river moving lazily past. He swayed them from side to side a little, his hands drifting lower as he rubbed her back. That hot, heavy sensation was back in her gut, but she didn’t feel rushed or pushed, just a steadily increasing desire for more.
“Can I ask you something?” The words escaped her like they were propelled from a shotgun.
“Anything,” Trevor promised.
It was easier when she wasn’t looking into his eyes. “Can I see you naked?”
Chapter Fourteen
A soft curse escaped before he regained control of his brain.
The entire afternoon he’d watched Becky with something near obsession. Making sure she was okay with his family. Making sure she was comfortable with all of them being in her space. When he’d heard her laugh out loud from somewhere upstairs, working with Rachel, his gut had done backflips from relief.
That reaction had nothing on what was churning inside him at her out-of-the-blue request.
Slow. Remember? She probably didn’t mean what he thought she meant.
He went for casual. “Well, that’s an interesting proposition. Do you mean right here? Because there’re no guarantees we won’t have company at any moment, and while I don’t care who I flash, this is a small town. We’ll be teased for a long time. It could make for some awkward family-dinner discussions.”
Becky adjusted position so she could stare up at him with those big brown eyes. “I was thinking maybe at your place.”
He nodded slowly. “And does this me getting naked business involve you getting naked as well?”
She hesitated, chewing for a second on her lower lip. “Not yet.”
That’s what he figured. “Sweetheart, I don’t know what you’re looking so all-fired worried about. You want me to strip, I’m there. Don’t expect me to do any dance moves, but if you’re looking to do a little exploring, I’m more than willing to let you research.”
“You want to know why?”
“Well, it’s obviously because you’re totally enamored with me, and want to admire me in all my most glorious bare-assedness.”
“I know you’re joking, but that’s not far off,” Becky offered in return. “And I didn’t mean this minute.” She flushed adorably and changed the subject. “What’s the most fun you’ve ever had down by the river?”
Right now was the first answer that popped to mind.
Trevor took her by the hand and started walking again, following her lead and ignoring the oh, my fucking God request she’d made moments before. “Let’s see. There’ve been float parties that were a lot of fun. Giant inner tubes and blowup rubber boats from the hardware store loaded with beer and munchies. We drive upstream till we’re on the outskirts of Coleman property and then drift all the way to the other end. Those times hold a lot of good memories.”
“You took beer in the rafts with you?”
“Sure. Coolers fit in the boats just fine. The best was the year that Travis set up a barbecue on a plank of wood over an inner tube, lashed it behind his rubber dingy, and roasted dogs and hamburgers while we floated. That was a hell of a lot of fun.”
Her eyes had gone wide. “Now I know you’re pulling my leg.”
“Seriously, he actually floated a barbecue down the river, no problems at all. Joel was the one who tipped one year and lost the picnic cooler.”
“It sounds incredible.”
“Then we’ll do it,” Trevor promised. “Not until late July, or August, because the water is still cold as hell until then.”
They reached the section of the river where they either had to turn around or cross over to the other side. Trevor eyed the rustic bridge he and the cousins had made years ago. It was looking a little worse for wear, winter debris tucked up against the slowly decaying logs. “I think we need to head back.”
Becky nodded, slipping from his side to walk in the water. Every step she kicked up splashes that grew bigger and bigger as she swung her legs more vigorously. Trevor didn’t bother to fight his grin as she played on the trip back, sheer delight in all her motions.
Until she turned toward him too rapidly and lost her footing, falling into the shallow river with a massive splash. The shock on her face and the loud shout of dismay from her lips had him rushing forward, barely keeping his balance as he hit the slick surface made worse by its recent dousing of water.
Only she wasn’t hurt. Becky was laughing so hard she couldn’t stand up. Every time she tried, her feet slipped out from under her again and she landed with another squawk in the icy water.
By the time Trevor closed the distance between them she was soaked and muddy from head to toe.
“You’re going to get yourself all dirty,” she scolded between laughs as he scooped her out of the water and marched back toward their shoes, carrying her in his arms.
Trevor ignored her halfhearted fist banging into his biceps, because she was still laughing. “Rodeo, I told you that water was cold. Could have saved yourself the experiment if you’d just listen to me.”
“You didn’t tell me that the mud was muddy,” she said with a giggle that escalated to a shriek as he hoisted her in the air, draping her over his shoulder. “Trevor. Put me down.”
“Nope.”
“I can walk,” she insisted.
“I noticed you walking. It seemed to involve a lot of arm waving and splashing.”
Becky snorted in a most unladylike way, the sound making him chuckle as he snatched up their shoes and made his way cautiously back to the truck. Her laughing complaints continued to ring in his ears, his heart light at her good-natured response to her mishap.
He tossed their shoes into the truck bed then went to open the driver’s door.
“No, please.” Becky’s amusement faded, and she sounded seriously concerned. “I’ll sit in the back. I don’t want to get mud all over your truck.”
“You won’t,” he promised, keeping hold of her as he adjusted the seat and wheel to the maximum distance.
Then he twisted her in his arms until he had her back against his chest, one arm tucked under her legs to support her until he had sat himself down with her in his lap. It took a little work, but they ended up with her behind the driver’s seat facing forward, just like him.
Again her sense of humour snuck out. “I don’t know that it’s the best time for a driver’s lesson.”
“We’ll kill two birds with one stone.” The river water was wicked cold at this time of year, and he was worried she’d feel it soon enough. “I’ll get you home to a hot bath, but in the meantime, yeah, this is how you drive a truck.”
He started a running monologue describing his actions to distract her from her wet and chilled situation.
It was a good thing he could drive while barely paying attention. Having her in his lap was making him crazy. The trip was so short he was tempted to drive around the section a few more times to enjoy the weight of her resting against him.
She reached up to the steering wheel, resting her hands on top of his, and moving with him. Trevor had a sudden vision of her naked, back in this position, riding his cock, and he stifled a groan as they hit her yard.
Then he ignored her protests again an
d carried her from the truck to the upstairs bathroom. “No use in getting two sets of muddy footprints on the floor,” he pointed out.
“Oh, right.”
He lowered her carefully into the old-fashioned claw-foot tub. “Got your balance?”
Her hand rested on his shoulder for a moment. “My feet are slippery.”
“Sit down,” he ordered, tossing a towel on the floor to stand on so he wouldn’t make more of a mess with his muddy feet. Then he turned on the water taps and adjusted the temperature as she sat, jeans and all, in the tub.
A shiver rocked her hard. Damn, he should have known better. “Slip off your pants.”
She hesitated.
“Look, you’re cold and wet, and I promise I won’t do anything but get you warmed up. Take them off.”
He twisted away so he wasn’t watching, but the sounds of her struggling were clear. A bar of soap rattled off the tub edge, rolling past his feet.
When a borderline bad word escaped her, he couldn’t help himself. “You need a hand, Rodeo?”
“Maybe?”
So softly said.
Trevor made sure he kept his eyes on her legs as he checked to see what the trouble was.
She’d gotten the fabric only halfway pulled off, shoved together into a knot by her knees. “Relax. I’ll untangle you.”
Easier said than done at this point. He had to turn the fabric inside out, holding her by the knee as he jerked at the wet fabric that was stuck like glue to her smooth shins.
The water splashing into the tub was sending up billows of steam, while bits of mud knocked from her toes clung to the white porcelain like illegible hieroglyphics. Trevor tossed the wet mess of her jeans into the sink and returned an instant later to catch hold of her foot and dunk it under the running water.
Becky giggled. Full-out giggled as her foot jerked in his hand. “That tickles.”
“Good to know.” Trevor offered a smile as he kept a firm grasp on her, slipping his fingers between her toes to get out the stubborn mud. “Why did we think getting a mud pack was a good idea, again?”
“It’s supposed to be go-o-o-o-od for the—stop it, you’re killing me,” she begged, wiggling harder.
“Nearly done,” he promised. “At least this foot.”
“I can reach my toes to wash them,” she said, another giggle accompanying the words.
“I can reach them even better,” he smirked, glancing at her with a mouth that had suddenly gone dry.
She’d wiggled out of her flannel shirt revealing the thin wife-beater underneath. The fabric was white, so it would have been a pretty meager cover to start with, but with the water wicking up the material from the tub, and the moisture from her earlier dousing, her torso was as close to naked as possible while still being covered.
Trevor might have swallowed his tongue while fighting the urge to whisper Sweet Lord Almighty.
Becky wasn’t wearing a bra.
That bit took a moment more to register. Not because it wasn’t plain as plain could be, but because, holy fucking shit, she wasn’t wearing a bra, only a see-through white shirt, and he was supposed to go slow…
Fuck his life.
Another shiver took her, but this time she swore it wasn’t the cold.
It was the look in Trevor’s eyes.
He’d frozen in place, eyes locked on her torso, and the instant flush of heat that struck was most definitely centered deep in her core.
He swallowed hard, then dragged his gaze higher, meeting her eyes briefly with such a heated desire she broke into a sweat.
“Other foot,” he ordered, breaking the spell between them, but leaving her fighting for air, as if the steam in the room was wall-to-wall and thick as cotton.
She lifted her left foot into his hand then leaned back, resting her arms along the top of the tub. Tilting her head back until it rested on the ledge behind her as she watched him with fascination.
Trevor had turned on the water, but left the drain open, probably to let the mud escape. It meant there were only a couple inches of water collecting in the bottom of the massive tub. Her panties were soaking, and her undershirt, but the fact she was nearly naked in front of him wasn’t the bit making her heart pound like crazy.
He was touching her. Over and over, like an artist working with delicate materials, Trevor stroked her skin in small motions, wiping away the mud, flushing any remaining smears clean with fresh water.
It was the most innocent of acts, and she was more turned on than she’d ever been in her life.
She wiggled slightly, trying to do something about the ache between her legs without making it clear how much she was enjoying this unexpected situation.
Silence fell between them. Silence, but for the laughing trickle of the water, and the sound of their beating hearts. God, she swore hers was pounding loud enough Trevor should be staring at her in concern.
“Stand up.”
His voice, tight and deep. A command, but one he was as forced to make as she was to obey. Her limbs moved without hesitation.
Trevor waited, kneeling by the tub as she rested a hand on his shoulder. A shiver rippled over her skin, although that should have been impossible since she was on fire. He grabbed the cup from beside the sink and methodically washed all traces of mud from the tub.
His dark head bent forward as he focused on his task, the muscles in his biceps flexing as he moved—power and passion bundled together in one appetizing package.
She was nearly drooling, breathing hard as she watched him care for her.
There were so many things she wasn’t ready for, but this? She was ready for this. Sexual tension stretched taut between them, and while she didn’t know what she wanted, she knew she wanted.
He put the plug in the drain before standing. Her hand slid down his arm, over firm muscles and barely leashed passion.
Trevor stared into her eyes, wicked heat held in control with an iron-firm grip. “You need to take off your things so you can soak and get warmed up. I’ll step outside and go see—”
“What if I slip?” she interrupted, gratified to see his eyes widen with shock.
If she was going to hell, she was going to go on her own terms.
“Hold me,” Becky ordered, not sure where she found the boldness.
But then he moved to obey, and she didn’t care how it had happened. She reached under the edge of the shirt and caught hold of her panties, dragging them down her legs until they fell to her feet. She stepped out of them, stooping to snatch them up and toss them past Trevor into the bathroom sink.
She made the mistake of looking at him. If his eyes had been full of fire before, they were now twin infernos, scalding hot as he gripped her elbow, supposedly to support her.
“Rodeo. I don’t think you’re ready for what you’re asking for.” He licked his lips, as if desperate for moisture. “You said earlier you weren’t ready to be naked in front of me. There’s no need to rush. I’m not going anywhere, I promise, so whatever wild thing’s got hold of you, you tell it to ease off for a little while.”
He was probably right, but it was hard to resist temptation with fire flowing through her veins. “I want something more,” she confessed. “I don’t know what, but I don’t want to let go of this feeling. Not yet.”
Trevor nodded, a glimmer of mischief returning to break the tension. “You find any bubble bath when you cleaned the house?”
Curiosity struck as Becky motioned toward the drawers under the sink. “Second one down.”
He placed her hands carefully on the edge of the tub as she dropped to her knees, her private parts still covered, as much as a soaking-wet shirt could stop her pebbled nipples from being visible.
Then he grabbed one of the small travel bottles of bubble bath and upended it into the tub, tossing the empty container in the garbage before fixing her with another one of those heart-palpitating looks. “Take off your shirt when I leave, and get comfy.”
He must’ve sensed her
disappointment because a wicked chuckle escaped.
“Don’t worry, Rodeo. I promise to come back in about twenty minutes. We’ll see what we can do about that something more you want.”
He left before she could ask any questions, the bathroom door closing with solid click.
Becky stripped away her final layer, balling it up and tossing it in the sink with the rest of her clothes before she settled back and luxuriated in the hot water.
Only it wasn’t like taking a bath any other day. Small bubbles escaping from the bottom of the tub caressed her skin as they made their way to the water surface. Every brush a tease, her anticipation growing stronger.
Without a watch, twenty minutes was impossible to gauge, but by the time the door opened she was a bundle of tightly wound cravings. She’d turned off the taps a while ago, but not before the falling water had produced a mass of bubbles covering the entire water surface up to her neck.
Trevor walked in, bold as could be, to settle on the lowered toilet seat as he checked her out with a self-satisfied grin. A moment’s glance was enough to see he’d washed his feet elsewhere in the house, his bare feet tanned and strong like the rest of him.
“You’re looking mighty comfy,” he teased.
“I’m not cold anymore.” Becky lifted her arms out of the water and laid them on the tub edge again. The position made the bubbles sway, the top curves of her breasts lifting the floating layer slightly and turning it into a rolling landscape.
“You okay with me being in here?” She must’ve made an annoyed face because he lifted a brow. “Hey, I need to check. You were awfully full of vim and vigor a while ago, and I don’t mind one bit. But if you ever change your mind when we’re fooling around, all you ever have to say is no, got it?”
She nodded even as she had to ask. “Are we going to fool around?”
He dropped to his knees beside the tub, his gaze drifting over the bubbles as his smile took on a decidedly dirty cast. “I think we might be able to do something.”
The steam had mostly vanished, so she couldn’t blame it for her instant difficulty in breathing.