I really need to get her into my bed. Soon.
The outfit she's wearing doesn't help matters. Her loose-fitting blouse should stem my lust for her breasts, but instead, its billowing fabric makes me crave her tits even more. Something about the way the blouse moves this way and that draws my attention to those lovely mounds even more than a tight-fitting shirt might. The worst part of all is what's covering her lower half. The sky-blue material sheathing those shapely legs hardly qualifies as trousers. The garment clings to her body like a second skin.
And Christ, her shoes. Their heels lift her a few inches higher and give her ankles a seductive curve, and her pink-painted toenails poke out of the sandal-like shoes.
She blinks several times, rapidly at first, then slower as she runs her gaze over me from head to toe. Her cheeks turn a pale shade of pink, the color speckling her skin. Her attention seems to have stalled on my cock, or rather, the bulge under my towel that gives away the fact I'm still semi-aroused. Yes, I relieved the pressure, but I'm not quite back to normal yet. Still somewhat firmer and larger than usual.
Cat licks her lips.
Perfect. Now I know for sure she wants me as much as I want her. No more talk of love and the past. I need her in my bed, not my heart.
If I even have one of those.
Her gaze lifts to mine. "I heard a scream, and I thought you were—I don't know. Having a heart attack or something."
"It's nice to know you'll come to my rescue if I ever do have a heart attack, but no. I'm fine."
"Oh. Good." She glances down at the bulge under my towel again, the pink tip of her tongue poking out between her ripe, luscious lips. After about two seconds of staring at my cock like she wants to devour it, towel and all, she looks at my face again. "Why did you scream?"
"What? I never scream." I had shouted or…something. Rather loudly. Might I have made a louder noise than I realized? Climaxing to visions of Catriona was the most intense release I've experienced in a long time. "You must have imagined it."
Her gaze narrows, and her mouth tightens. "I don't imagine things like that. Besides, I was standing right outside your door when I heard it."
"Right outside my door?" I lean in until I can taste her breaths on my lips. "What were you doing hovering outside my room? If you want to fuck me, walk right in and do it."
If she had joined me in the shower, we both would've come as hard as I did on my own. No, harder. With her willing body milking mine, the release would have been the best I've ever had.
Her breathing has grown labored, hoisting her breasts up with every inhalation.
And my erection is experiencing a rebirth.
"Better make up your mind quickly," I say, lowering my voice to a huskier register on purpose. "Or I'll go back in the shower and rub one off again without you."
She freezes, not even breathing. Her lips slide into a knowing smile, and she laughs softly.
I feel my brows cinch together. "What are you laughing about?"
"You." She clamps her teeth down on her lips, struggling to stave off louder laughter, but it snorts out of her anyway. She touches her fingers to her lips, and her snorts mutate into spluttering. "You masturbated."
"Why is that so amusing?" I grip the towel tighter and snap my spine straight, frowning at her. "Everyone does it."
"Aye, but you did it because of me. I won't let you have a poke at me, so you were forced to get off on your own."
"I still don't see what's funny about it." Her reaction is making me irritable. What the bloody hell? I don't get irritated because a woman laughs at me. Not that any female ever has laughed. When I told her I rubbed one off already, she was meant to be aroused—desperately aroused. Instead, little chuckles keep spluttering out of her.
"Had a dry spell, have you, Alex?" She pulls her fingers away from her mouth, no longer laughing but still smiling at me with an amusement that has me crooking my fingers into my palms. "How long has it been since you've slept with a woman?"
"None of your business."
"That long, eh? No wonder you're so…pent up." She crosses her arms over her chest, pretending to examine me like she's my physician and I'm a patient with an unfortunate disease. "Or do you prefer men these days? I have no problem with that, and it would explain why you keep acting like you want to sleep with me but never actually try to seduce me."
"What the fuck, Cat?" I throw my hands up. "I am not gay. Understand? Not gay. I love to shag women—only women."
"Calm down, Alex." She holds up her hands in a conciliatory gesture. Then her focus swerves to the bottom half of me, now exposed because I've let go of the towel. It lies on the floor. Cat jerks her gaze away from my groin and clears her throat. "Get dressed. I'll meet you downstairs."
She whirls away and sashays toward the stairs.
I groan. Her arse in those leggings, or whatever women call them, the sight of it makes all the blood rush from my brain straight to my cock.
The woman is tormenting me on purpose, and I'm falling for her scheme. Who knew Catriona MacTaggart, the sweet and almost shy girl who'd been embarrassed to sit next to me on a park bench, would become a devious and brazen woman who knows exactly how to get under my skin. I like her this way. Bossy. Sexy. Sarcastic and dismissive.
Shagging her now will be even better than before.
Catriona pauses at the top of the stairs to glance back at me. "Are you sure you're not gay?"
"Yes, Cat, I'm sure." Why did I snarl those words like an enraged dog?
Smirking, she heads down the stairs.
That woman is absolutely going to drive me insane. If Catriona crawls too far under my skin, she might unearth all the dark and twisted secrets I've buried deep inside myself. That will never happen. Unless she keeps acting this way…
Bloody hell.
Chapter Six
Catriona
Alex. Naked. Wet. Water dripping from his hair and drizzling down his skin. I've seen him naked before, since we lived together for almost two years, but I haven't seen all of him in a very long time. Most men get less fit and virile as they age, but not Alex. I swear he's developed more muscles instead of less. His thighs are thicker than I remember, thick with powerful sinews, and his biceps have grown too. When he clenched his fists, they bulged. I traced every curving line of muscle on his chest, counted every single one of his six-pack abs, and followed the trail of fine hairs that tapered down to the part of him I'd thought I remembered so well.
I've been wrong. His cock seems larger than I remember too.
That part of him cannot have grown. I assumed if I ever saw his penis again, it would be smaller than I remember. Instead, it's bigger. Thicker. More mouthwatering.
And aye, my mouth watered. I might've licked my lips when I stared at his male member. That singular part of his body mesmerized me and made my body come alive. Aching nipples. Aching breasts. Slick heat between my thighs. And the taut bud of my lust throbbed.