Rixen’s mouth lifted at one end as he leaned in, reaching past her to turn on the sink tap. The hair of his beard grazed her cheek and a hot shiver tickled her spine. Oh man. Full on Stockholm’s. It would claim her unless she fought. If he noticed the conflict in her, he didn’t comment, his focus on her ankle. Cleaning it off with a surprisingly soft washcloth, spreading a salve across the gash and bandaging it, his fingers so gentle, brow creased in concentration. When she found herself studying his mouth a little too closely, she cursed herself inwardly.
“Why haven’t you done it yet?” Morgan blurted, needing a reminder of the situation. Kidnapping in progress, girl. “We both know I won’t be able to fight you off. Maybe you’re getting off on making me wait? Letting me agonize over the when and h-how—”
“You will not fight me if I do it right.” He frowned. “That is my hope.”
“What if I do fight?”
“I will go back to studying how to please you.” Morgan held her breath as Rixen knelt down and kissed her bandaged ankle. “As far as the when, I said I would feed you first.”
“I’m not hungry,” she murmured like an idiot, completely thrown off by the way this alligator wrestler had kissed her booboo.
Rixen’s eyes flared. “I will lick you now, then.”
“W-well, wait.” She searched her mind for a way to stall. No one had ever seen her nether regions before, let alone tasted them. She’d always hoped she’d have the opportunity to get drunk first. Plus, she was supposed to be buying herself time to escape. “You have to clean up first!”
He rose to his full height, forcing Morgan’s head to tip back. “Clean up?”
“Yes. You’ve got dirt all over your face. If you…do that thing you said…all that dirt is going to get on me, too.”
Horror crossed his features. “No. I don’t want that.”
“Then you should shower.” She gave a nervous laugh. “I’ll hang right here and wait for the licking to start.”
“You were able to say it that time,” he rumbled, unhooking one of his overall straps. “You’re warming to the idea.”
She slapped her knee. “Must be!”
Rixen took a hesitant step toward the shower, his overalls only connected by one fastener now. “You will run away, won’t you?”
“You’re beautiful even when you lie.”
The betrayal etched on his face made a lump rise in her throat. She needed to deny the fact she would run, but the words got stuck on their way out.
Rixen slipped an arm around her waist and eased her off the sink. “You will shower with me so I can be sure you won’t try to leave.”
He unsnapped the other side of his overalls then and the top sagged all the way down to his waist. Morgan could do nothing but stare. Holy Mary, mother of God. His stomach was so ripped in places, she couldn’t even see the bottom of the dividing cuts. A curling, black happy trail ran down the center of the biggest capital V in history, the grooves traveling down his hips and narrowing, narrowing…meeting where the head of his erection jutted out of the denim, helmet shaped and purple, ready to burst.
“I understand you are innocent of men, Morgan,” he whispered in a gravelly tone. “I also understand I am more repulsive than most. Especially the part of me that weeps for you. I promise not to put my cock inside you until you ask for it. Does that ease your fears?”
“Who are you?”
Without answering, he led Morgan to the shower. He slid back a glass door and reached inside to turn the knob, starting a cascade into the oversized tub. Like the rest of the house, it was designed for comfort, all muted grays and moonlight filtering in from a window above. Steam slithered in between them as Rixen pushed his overalls the rest of the way and kicked off his boots.
Don’t look down. Don’t look down.
Morgan looked down and whimpered. “Oh dear.”
Was it her imagination or did Rixen’s face deepen with color? “Only when you ask for it.” His swallow was audibly thick. “It would be an honor to undress you.”
She was definitely losing her mind. That was the only explanation for her considering letting this man take off her clothes. But something inside was still twisted over how he’d called himself repulsive. Truly this man thought himself unwanted. And how many times in her life had she felt the same? “I have m-my bathing suit on under my clothes.” She took a fortifying breath. “Could you just leave it on?”
Intensity like she’d never encountered before filled Rixen’s eyes, shaking fingers curling in the bottom of her tank top and drawing it over her head, revealing her admittedly skimpy bikini top and bare stomach. A pained animal sound echoed off the walls of the bathroom and Rixen spun away. Even from behind, there was no mistake his hand was working furiously on his erection, the muscles of his ass flexing and releasing. “I can’t do this,” he gritted. “You are too sweet and ripe. I can’t stand it.”