Part 12 (1/2)

Taking a pill of Obsession like a daily vitamin had a certain practicality about it, Annie thought, then forgot all about perfume as he continued to rub the shampoo into her hair. His hands were strong but gentle, ma.s.saging her scalp firmly without tugging or pulling. She leaned her head back and sighed.

”James, you've done this before.”

”Many times,” he said with a slight edge to his voice. Abruptly she remembered the things he had told her, and wondered if he'd served as a lady's maid as well as a s.e.xual companion and nanny.

”James,” she said softly, ”you don't have to serve me. You aren't a slave.”

There was a long silence, as he worked through the tangles in her long hair. At last he said, ”I served my mistress because I had to.” He spoke so quietly she could hardly hear him over the splas.h.i.+ng water. ”I serve you because I want to.”

She felt tears stinging her eyes, tears that had nothing whatsoever to do with the shampoo he was rinsing from her hair. ”Thank you,” she whispered humbly.

He lathered his own hair hastily and rinsed it, then picked up a bar of soap. Slowly he began to soap her skin, beginning with the firm flesh of her belly. She sighed and closed her eyes. ”James....”

His wet, soapy hands explored her body reverently, caressing her b.r.e.a.s.t.s and thighs and throat, sliding across her until she leaned back against him, making inarticulate sounds of pleasure. There was no doubt that he knew what a woman liked, she thought as he slipped his big hand around her breast and squeezed her nipple gently. Actually, his expertise was rather unnerving, considering how awkward and shy he'd been last night.

His hand, slick with soapy water, slid down her belly and slipped between her legs, and she gasped at the bolt of desire that shot through her. His warm, powerful fingers moved against her, seeking and finding the most sensitive spot, caressing her dampness, stroking gently, relentlessly, until the exquisite pleasure built to a nearly unbearable pressure, until a cataclysm of heat erupted inside her. She arched her back, crying out helplessly as spasm after spasm of ecstasy racked her. At last the tremors faded, and she leaned against his chest, in the circle of his arms, as thoroughly satiated as she'd ever been in her lifetime.

And then James dropped to his knees in front of her.

Something about the position he had a.s.sumed made her think of his forced servitude, and she started to object, but her objections faded the instant she felt his mouth against her. To her surprise, warm pleasure curled within her, despite the fact that ten seconds before she would have sworn her body was incapable of feeling anything more.

Leaning back against the smooth tile wall of the shower, she closed her eyes, captured a fistful of his hair in either hand, and tilted her hips forward, offering herself up to him.

He accepted her wordless invitation, imprisoning her hips in his big hands and holding her motionless while he explored her. His warm, gentle mouth felt better than anything she could have imagined. His lips caressed her in a slow, subtle rhythm, allowing the sensations to build. And build they did. She leaned her head back and moaned, a soft sound of surrender that was barely audible over the splas.h.i.+ng water.

At last she felt his tongue, probing delicately at first, sending a dazzling cascade of sensation through her body. She was aware the sounds she was making were more than audible, but she couldn't have stopped herself from crying out if her life had depended on it. His insistent tongue slipped over her slick flesh relentlessly, sliding against her in a forceful, ever-increasing tempo, until she detonated a second time, in a climax so unbelievably intense her whole body shuddered.

Her legs trembled beneath her, and she might have collapsed had he not stood up swiftly and caught her in his arms. Utterly drained, she leaned against him. ”James,” she breathed. ”Oh, G.o.d, James, that was incredible.”

He held her against his chest and kissed the top of her head as the hot water continued to sluice down over them. ”I am pleased that you liked it.”

She felt his demanding erection, hot and iron-hard against her lower abdomen. ”But you gave me everything,” she murmured, ”and I gave you nothing.”

”You will.” He looked down at her, his vibrant azure eyes framed by spiky, wet lashes, and spoke in an intense whisper. ”I want to be inside you, Annie.”

”Oh, G.o.d,” she said, feeling exhausted. ”Not after that. I can't.”

”Yes, you can. And you will. Trust me.”

He shut off the water and stepped out of the shower. Methodically, he began to dry her off, using one of the black towels that hung on the rack next to the shower. She stood quietly until he had finished.

”And now,” he said, handing her a dry towel, ”it's your turn.”

Annie began to rub him with the towel. She had thought herself beyond arousal, but touching him in such an intimate fas.h.i.+on was beginning to awaken some small, primitive core of l.u.s.t deep within her. She dried off his chest, bulging with muscle, his powerful arms, his abdomen. And paused.

”Don't stop now,” he whispered.

She looked up into his eyes, saw him watching her intently with a glittering cobalt gaze. Slowly she moved the towel downward and began to rub him gently. He gave a deep, shuddering groan of pleasure and closed his eyes.

”That's enough,” he murmured after a moment.

”Are you certain'”

He caught her hands as she began to caress him again. ”Annie,” he murmured, ”this time we share it. Together.”

She nodded. She rubbed the rest of him dry, kneeling to dry off his lower legs and feet, then slowly she stood and faced him.

”There's something I should have told you last night,” she said. ”I'm not on the pill.”

”The pill'”

”Birth control. And I don't keep condoms in my purse. I haven't needed them for a long time. Kay

might have some around somewhere, though. Are you certain--”

”I am incapable of siring children, Annie. And I have no communicable diseases.”

”Oh. Great. That's terrific. Really.” She looked up at him, feeling like a sixteen-year-old fumbling in the

backseat with her first boyfriend. Awkwardness flooded over her in a hot, suffocating river. ”Well, I really ought to dry my hair.” She turned toward the cabinets beneath the sink.

”Annie.”

”Yeah'”

”What are you afraid of'”

She turned slowly and met his gaze.

”You,” she said in a shaky whisper. ”I'm afraid of you.”

She had known him for less than three days. And yet there was something about him that was so compelling, so utterly appealing, that she was afraid she'd never be the same once she truly surrendered to him.

She was afraid this one act would change her life forever.

James seemed to understand her fears. He tilted her chin up with his fingers and bent to kiss her gently.