Cowboy Casanova - Lorelei James [52]
Maybe he wouldn’t notice the drool dripping from her chin at seeing him nearly nude.
When he opened the door a crack, the dogs clambered to get inside. He snapped, “Sit.” The dogs sat. “Stay.” They whimpered. And stayed. Wagged their tails to get their master’s attention. He opened the door for Ainsley. Once she was inside, he said, “Take off,” to the dogs and they slunk away. He finally looked at her, then at the Crock-Pot she held. “What’s this?”
“Dinner. You made me dinner the other night, I’m returning the favor.”
“Smells good. You can plug it in by the coffeepot.”
Ainsley felt his eyes on her as she fussed with the temperature and the lid. When she turned around, Bennett wore the Dom face.
“Supper will keep for a while?”
She nodded.
“Good. Clothes off.”
“Right here?”
That one brow lifted as if to say, You challenging me, sub? and she stripped without another word.
He directed her through his bedroom to his bathroom. The rectangular shower had a clear glass door. The back walls and floor were comprised of dark gray tiles. Half a dozen nozzles were placed at different intervals on the side wall, and an enormous showerhead was centered in the middle of the ceiling. In the back corner was a built-in seat and another smaller handheld showerhead on the opposite wall. She’d take a gorgeous space like this over a sunken tub any day.
“You’re just in time to help me get cleaned up.”
Ainsley had a moment of panic. She wasn’t one of those women who looked sleek and sexy under the spray of water. Her hair frizzed the instant a drop of humidity touched it. Plus, she wasn’t wearing waterproof mascara. So she’d resemble a fat, fuzzed-out rat with raccoon eyes. Yeah. There was an image to turn him on.
Bennett motioned her inside the enclosure and settled her against the far wall. The tile chilled her back. He turned on the water and stood beneath the spray, facing her. “Watch me.”
Like she could take her eyes off his beautiful form. Long and lean, ripped arms, narrow torso, strong legs—his every muscle looked carved from granite. He wet a washcloth and soaped up, filling the humid space with a piney scent. Briskly rubbing the sudsy cloth over his arms, his neck and shoulders. Across his pecs and abdomen to his crotch. Over his fully erect cock. Between his legs, down to his ankles, feet and toes. He tossed the cloth aside and squirted shampoo into his palm. Closing his eyes, he scrubbed his head, turning away to rinse.
The rear view was as impressive as his front. Powerful shoulders and back. Firm buttocks so perfectly round and hard her teeth ached to take a bite.
He shut the water off, but steam still hissed from a pipe low to the floor, keeping the space warm. Bennett said, “Face the wall.”
He’d moved in behind her. His mouth latched onto her nape. “Did you touch yourself last night after you left here?”
“No.”
“Did you touch yourself this mornin’?”
“No.”
“And how did you feel today?”
“Achy. Edgy. Needy.”
His hot breath burned her ear. “That’s how you’re supposed to feel. Last night was about putting you at ease. Tonight is about you proving to me that you’re ready for this.”
She squared her shoulders. “I am ready.”
Sweet, lazy kisses morphed into tiny nips on the fleshy slope of her shoulder. She shivered. Bit her lip against a moan.
He zigzagged his tongue along her spine to the tops of her buttocks and placed a sucking kiss in the middle of each cheek. “Get on your knees.”
Again she felt that flip in her belly. That spike of heat in her pulse. That deep throb in her sex. As she got into position, Bennett perched on the edge of the bench seat, his feet planted wide on the tile floor.
She dropped to her knees, allowing her hands to rest on her lap.
“Angel, you are a quick study.”
His compliment stirred an odd sense of pride inside her.
“Touch your nipples.”
Ainsley pressed her palms over her breasts. Squeezing the fleshy globes, she began to rub the centers of her palms over her nipples in small circles.
Her gaze