Page 30 of Sasha’s Secret

“What are you doing?”

“Feet on the counter, legs apart. Can you do that?”

If she’d ever needed to know why she attended yoga classes, this would have been the answer. A hot flush seared her body as she let him position her feet exactly where he wanted them, leaving her totally exposed.

Without preamble, he thrust the middle finger of his right hand inside her, and without a hint of a fumble, found the spot that curled her toes. She gasped and whimpered, trying to hold on even though she wanted to scream.

“You’re soaking wet.”

Her core clamped down hard on his finger in response to his blunt observation, but she couldn’t prevent him from withdrawing. The loss was almost a physical pain. Then her jaw dropped as he licked his glistening finger.

His dark, hooded eyes held her enthralled. Even if her life had been in danger, she wouldn’t have been able to tear her eyes away. Her breath stalled in her chest at his next words.

“Now I know what I’m having for dinner.”

Sasha reeled. On the precipice of melting into a useless puddle, she fought to regain an even keel on an ocean of bubbling, boiling, clamoring lust. Her self-control was fading fast, and she still had to get him out of his remaining garments.

“Please take your clothes off,” she implored. “I want to see you. All of you.”

Rocco took a step away from her but before he could unfasten his pants, she jumped down from the counter and did it for him. Slowly, so she could savor every moment of her exploration of the rigid bulge behind the zipper.

He gave a grunt of discomfort, mirrored by the unyielding set of his jaw and the way his hands clenched into fists at his sides. He’d gone commando too, allowing her to protect the heated steel of his erection with one hand, while the other slowly guided the zipper tab down. It was only when she tugged the tailored fabric over his hips that she could fully appreciate what was going to fill her.

His cock bobbed free of the restriction of clothing and strained upwards, almost touching his flat belly. The head was swollen and already glistening with the evidence of a need as urgent as her own. He was long, thick and hard, and at the sight of him, Sasha had to grit her teeth against the impulse to rub her aching clit until she came. Going into a semi-crouch, she continued pulling his pants down, only for him to stop her.

“No. Shoes.”

He sounded as if he could barely get the words out. Sasha glanced down. Oh, that would have killed the moment, trying to get his pants off over his footwear. Once the offending items were disposed of, she carried on toward her goal of getting Rocco naked. When he stepped out of the puddle of black fabric, she had to admit he was the most exquisite man she’d ever laid eyes on.

Only now did she fully recognize the true beauty of what she’d missed. Not only that, she was in the perfect, eye-level position to appreciate Rocco’s most… prominent attributes. While he didn't shave the way they had, he clearly still took care of himself—his balls and the base of his cock were framed by neatly trimmed pubic hair. Unable to resist, she leaned forward and licked his shaft from root to tip. She finished the maneuver with a swirl of her tongue around the crown, with the finale of a satisfying pop as she released him.

If only her previous role had taken her to Italy, then she’d have known exactly what his words meant. Not that it made much difference—the vehemence of the short, sharp utterance above her head communicated the impact of her action perfectly. She rose in one fluid movement, and before Rocco could take both of them on another sensual detour, she took him by the hand and led him to the spacious shower enclosure.

Typical of every male she’d ever met, Rocco had the temperature set just a little too cool for Sasha’s liking. After adjusting it to a far more sensible and acceptable level, she turned the controls to the tropical rainfall setting and ducked under the cascade. With a tug on his hand, Rocco followed her, unwittingly standing in precisely the right position for her to drape her arms around his neck and share another lingering kiss.

“So you won’t forget what comes next,” she whispered.

“No chance,” Rocco replied, as he ran his fingers down her spine and his hand curved over her hip. “I know exactly… who comes next.”

* * *

As Rocco wrapped the huge, warm towel around the woman who’d just tested his resolve to its limits, he was still trying to work out what had happened during the shower they’d just shared.

He’d done the same thing many times before—there was nothing quite as intimate as getting to know a lover’s body by bathing together. In the shower or in the bathtub, it didn't much matter, but this time, something different had happened.

What had proved it had been his reaction when she’d slipped and almost fallen. He’d caught her, as he would have done for any other woman in that situation, but the near-accident had triggered a surge of protectiveness, the like of which he’d never experienced before. She’d grabbed his arms, and when their eyes met, a powerful blast of emotion had hit him square in the solar plexus.

As he’d already known, there was more to this than lust and primal need, but heaven help him, he didn’t care. What he did care about was standing in his arms right now, and unless he missed his guess, she was as reluctant to step away from him as he was to let her.

“You’re still wet.”

Her quiet voice broke the trance he’d fallen into. Rocco blinked and took a deep breath. “No problem.”

He grabbed a second towel from the rail, but before he could do anything with it, Sasha took it from him.

“Let me.”

He was about to protest, but at the first touch he was lost. All he could do was watch her, vaguely aware that with each passing second, he was tumbling deeper into the rabbit hole. Common sense tried to warn him he was opening himself up for a heap of trouble on so many levels, but his brain was short-circuiting from the sparks flying between him and Sasha.