Firewolf

“They’re in the linen closet in the hall.”

She rolled back the shower door. He didn’t look away.

“So, do we have a bed?” she asked. She was so casual about her body and sexuality. Do we have a bed?

“There’s only one.”

“That’ll do.”

Now his skin was prickling and his body responding to the possibilities she raised.

“Is that all you ever have on your mind?” he asked.

She faced him, pressing herself against the glass, giving him a view he would never forget. “Only since I met you.”

He didn’t believe it, but he found himself growing hard.

“Why don’t you step in? I’ll wash you off.”

“Meadow, I don’t even know you.”

“You will if you get in here.”

Dylan untied his boots and stripped out of his clothing. He retrieved his wallet and one condom. Then he ignored his conscience, slid back the door and stepped into the shower with Meadow.

Chapter Seven (#u14c721b8-bff3-5fae-b9ac-a24d6df9f612)

“Man,” she said, her smile widening. “You are fine to look at.”

“You sure about this?” His body pulsed with need.

“Totally.”

He’d never slept with someone who said totally. It wasn’t right. Dylan dropped the condom onto the tiled shelf and closed the shower door.

“I thought I had burned my back in the shelter.” He presented it to her. “But I don’t feel any burns.”

Her hands caressed his shoulders as the water pulsed on his skin.

“Perfect,” she said. She soaped him and lathered his skin from his neck to the back of his legs while his body built to a thrumming need to touch her.

Meadow’s hand slipped down his arm pausing at the tattoo.

“I like this. It’s well done. That’s a medicine shield. Right? And eagle feathers?”

He nodded, watching her as she traced the design.

She slipped around in front of him and repeated her ministration on his chest.

“I’ve wanted to touch you since I saw you with that ax. Then you were on top of me and I could barely breathe.”