Page 134 of Twisted Truth

“Strip, Damsel in Distress.”

“I’m not stripping and showering with you in here.”

“Then we’re canceling the meeting because you’re not showering alone in your condition.”

“My condition? I’m fine.”

“That’s the third time you’ve said that, and it’s the third time I don’t fully believe it. You’re definitely still corpsy.”

“Be serious, Asher. You can’t expect me to shower while you’re in here.”

“Why not? We’ve showered together before.”

“That was very different circumstances. And . . . a mistake.”

His brows lift. “A mistake?”

“I still haven’t decided what to do with your proposal.”

He steps even closer to me, towering over me, and shuts the door behind him. “Mistake or not, proposition or not, it doesn’t change the fact that I have already seen every inch of you.” He bends down to whisper in my ear. “And not only that, I’ve also had my hands on every inch of you. I’ve had your perfect tits in my mouth. And I’ve had my fingers and tongue in your delicious pussy. A little shower is nothing.”

Heat floods my veins. A throb aches in my core. Damn him.

He turns around and strides to the bathroom door and locks it. Then he reaches up and yanks at his tie.

“What are you doing?”

“You’re worried about being naked in front of me, so I thought I’d even the playing field.”

He slips his tie off and starts unbuttoning his shirt. I swallow hard. He pulls the tails of his dress shirt out of his pants and yanks his shirt off. His perfect abs and chest shimmer under the bathroom lights. Fuck.

“I don’t see you undressing, Ella,” he purrs. “Or do you need me to do it for you?”

“This is . . . this is . . . completely unnecessary,” I say, far, far too breathily.

“It’s completely necessary. You’re in a compromised state.And since you need a shower, I’m here to be your shower buddy.”

“My shower buddy? Really?”

“Mm-hmm.” He prowls toward me. “Remember, Ella. For all intents and purposes, you’re mine.” He slips his hands onto my waist and grabs the bottom of my shirt, pulling it up over my head. “And I take care of what’s mine.”

He runs his hands down my arms, still staring into my eyes as he pushes his hands into my leggings and pulls them down. Then he steps back and undoes his pants, and they drop to the floor. Next go his briefs. And then he’s standing gloriously naked in front of me.

He walks past me and into the massive marble shower and turns on the faucet. Then he turns back to me.

“Do I need to help you with the rest?”

Good god, this man is going to be the death of me.

I unclasp my bra and slide it off. His hungry eyes grow dark. I hook my thumbs into my panties and slide them down my legs. He visibly swallows then holds out his hand.

I walk toward him and take it. He holds on, steadying me as I step into the shower. The marble is a bit slippery, so it’s probably not the worst idea that he’s holding my hand, but there’s no way in hell I’m telling him that.

I stand under the warm water and let out a groan of pleasure. There’s nothing like a hot shower after a long plane ride—with a side of accidental over-drugging.

“Fuck, Ella. You can’t make that sound while we’re in here naked.”

“What sound?”