Rune soaps me up while I focus on washing his hair. It isn't easy to do. My senses are being overwhelmed by the marvelous heat of the water from multiple directions, the scent of the lavender, and his hands sliding over my body while he murmurs such sweet, naughty things now and then against my ear.

Holy Guacamole. Did he memorize what I wrote for my Sexpectations homework? Or is this his typical get-a-girl-ready talk? I'm more intoxicated now than from the wine. My knees are weak. I might collapse in a puddle of desire at his feet soon if I don't pull myself together.

"Time for a rinse," I say, nudging us both more directly under the water with my body. He closes his eyes and lets the water and suds stream down his gorgeous face.

"I may be spoiled for regular showers now," he says, tilting his head back and running his hands through his hair to remove the rest of the suds.

I trade him the shampoo for the soap bar. His smile is too sly and self-satisfied as those elegant hands of his massage my scalp and the back of my neck. I sigh in pleasure as the tension of the last few hours releases. This all feels amazing, but my thoughts are too jumbled and jangled. I need to get a handle on things, literally. In desperation, I slip my hands down between his legs. Rune grunts in surprise, his eyes opening wide as his hands freeze in my hair.

"You minx," he groans when my hands continue stroking him rhythmically. He groans again, stepping back so he's against the shower's slate wall as if he needs support. Good. I'm glad I'm not the only one off balance here. "Shells, you're cheating," he says after a few moments, but he doesn't stop me. His hands have dropped to my shoulders. His head is thrown back. His eyes are closed. I've got him right where I want him.

"You didn't clarify who gets to orgasm first," I say low, pressing my whole body to his, my lips under the curve of his jaw as I finish him off. From the noises he's making, I'm not the only one weak in the knees now.

**

"Why didn't you just tell me you wanted to slow down," Rune asks, eyes keen with curiosity.

We're in bed, a little water wrinkled, our long legs entwined, towels on our pillows for our wet hair.

"You were being a little too Asher Dillion," I say, deciding this is the way to sum it up, hoping he won't be annoyed. Instead, he barks a laugh and snorts as he rubs his hands over his face.

"Needs must Shells, I was getting desperate," he says, "You do realize Asher and I are the same person, right?" He asks, caressing my sheet-covered hip, "he's not some demon that takes possession of my body."

"Are you sure?" I ask, as the tension of desire between my legs intensifies under this tough. When he nods, I continue, "What do you mean you were getting desperate?"

"You're Port Gamble, and I'm in Victoria for now, three hours away. This surprise interlude felt like the perfect opportunity to discover if you've intentionally ignored my advances, or they've somehow gone over your head."

"What advances?" I exclaim, "I mean, except for tonight. We've been on fake dates with fake flirting! That doesn't count."

Rune narrows his eyes at me, seemingly unsure whether I'm telling the truth, "Seriously?"

"Of course," I say, wondering what I'm missing.

"I've asked you to come over and watch a movie with us three times," he tells me, "I fell asleep on your couch."

"Oh," I blink, "I was trying not to project. I was pretty sure you were just being kind and then were super tired and I thought you were seeing Daphne and..."

"Shelby, none of our dates haven't been fake on my side," he tells me. I open my mouth to protest, but I'm struck by the sweet look on his face and his using my actual name. Oh. "Haven't you noticed how I painted myself into almost every corner of your life? I was doing my best not to leave any space for Jack to come back."

"He's not coming," I say, shaking my head, feeling happier than I have in my entire adult life.

"Oh, trust me, I know his type, he definitely is," Rune says firmly, scooting closer to me.

"I mean, he already came back," I tell him, "Today."

"So, what's this?" Rune asks, using his hand to motion between us, his face tight.

"I mean," I say, grabbing his hand quickly and kissing his palm, "I said 'thank you no thank you' and sent him away, and then Lorelei texted me and I jumped in the car."

"Good," his face relaxes, "Good," he pulls me over on top of him. "I've longed to be this physically close to you since I was eight years old," he gently tucks my hair behind my ear on one side of my face and then the other with his long, elegant fingers. The touch of his fingertips sends shivers of delight through me.

"Seriously? When you were eight?" I make a disbelieving face at him.

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

"Well, not the naked part," he admits, "but I was desperate to hold your hand and never had the nerve."

"Like the night when we camped under the stars?" I ask, feeling a little sad at our shy selves.

"Exactly," he nods, "Didn't you ever wonder why I insisted on riding double behind you so often during those first couple of years?"

"You said you were afraid of riding the bigger horses alone," I run my hands through his damp wavy hair.

"I wasn't as afraid of riding them alone as much as I wanted to sit behind you with my arms around you."

His hands are now stroking large, lazy circles down my back. His cat-green gaze keep moving from my eyes to my lips and back like he did when we collided on the trail. I've learned since it's called triangling, when someone is really into you. I'm so happy I could purr right now.

"Remember when we first met?" Rune asks.

"Of course," I tell him, smoothing my fingers over a little spot on his chin with a scar where the hair doesn't grow, "Your Aunt Sally put us together on her huge grey eventing horse to cool him off in the arena. You made me ride in front."

"I really was afraid that first day. You had no qualms whatsoever. You were brave and I was so smitten. It was all I could do to keep from pressing my lips against the back of your bare neck. It wasn't to kiss you. I wasn't there yet, but that high, sweet ponytail of yours nearly did me in. And you smelled so good."

"Oh yeah?" I ask, thrilled he's sharing this, pressing my lips softly to his, just for a moment, then to his cheek, "Anything about me doing that for you now?"

"Obviously, your acres of legs," he says, as his hands move lower down my back, "and this gorgeous rear end you're always showing off in your assortment of leggings."

"Hey, I always have a long shirt or sweater on to cover it," I protest, "I'm not trying to show off; they're comfortable."

"Mmmm…" his fingers are now teasing slow circles around said rear end, making me rock my pelvis gently against his, "The long shirts only work when you're standing still, Seashell. Unless you're drawing, you're constantly moving. Dancing around your kitchen, playing with the dog, doing a million things at once. I never knew weeding a garden could be erotic until I was greeted by you on all fours the first day I arrived, lost to the world, bopping along to your music."

"So why were you in such a bad mood at first?" I ask, making a face at him, but of course I'm giddy with joy.

"I wasn't in a bad mood; I was sleep-deprived and freaked out by my reaction to seeing you."

"Well, okay, I was too," I admit.

"Not as much as I was," he raises that right eyebrow at me.

"How so?" I ask, finding this hard to believe. Rune does that lip-flattening thing, his expression embarrassed, "Oh, come on!" I nudge him by rocking my hips again. Between our bellies, I feel him start to respond, "It can't be more embarrassing than my learning that you snooped and found out I'm lousy at enjoying sex."

"Oh, it can," he assures me, "You're not lousy at enjoying sex, Shells; you just haven't figured out yet what works for you."

"Yes, thank you, but you didn't answer my question, Mr. Slitherer-outer," I say.

He's blushing and looking up at the ceiling, "I tried to tell you on the Ferry. A certain part of me, which is functioning fine right now, thank you, had been completely offline for a long time," his green gaze drops down on me again, "and I didn't care. I wasn't interested at all in anyone."

"That's totally understandable; you were dealing with so much grief and stress," I say soothingly, running the back of my hand gently over his cheek, and feeling very very lucky. I don't know much about it, except that impotence is a big deal for men and somehow I was his antidote? Wow. Just wow.

"Luckily for me, the combination of your leggings and your left thigh, my libido is back from the dead," he smiles suddenly, impishly, flexing his hips up into mine so I can't ignore that he's ready to go again.

"Only my left thigh?" I ask, nuzzling his neck.

"Yes, on the trail," he reminds me, flipping me over on my back and slipping his firm thigh between mine. I gasp in pleasure at the contact. Rune does a growling sort of purr over me, "You're getting my thigh wet," he says, sounding extremely happy.

"Trade it for your hand," I beg, "please."

"Soon," he promises, "tell me how to help you stay in your body," he gently traces the fingers of his right hand over my collarbones and follows it with his lips and tongue.

"I'm here right now," I assure him, "Just don't be too quiet for too long; that's when I start getting nervous and stuck in my head."

"But not too X-rated," his smile is downright wicked when he lifts his head.

"No, not too X-rated," I agree as he kisses his way down my sternum. I close my eyes and do nothing but make little noises of appreciation, basking in his attention. Bliss. This is pure bliss. I've never been so turned on in my life. I've read novels about people panting with desire and thought it was hyperbolic silliness. I'm not quite at that stage yet, but I will be soon.

Rune runs his fingers first and next, his tongue over one breast and then the other. I gasp again. I had no idea both the undersides and my nipples were that sensitive. All it took was a light touch, a very light touch, and oh, my thighs are shaking instead of my knees now from the build-up of pleasure throughout my body.

When he finally reaches down between my legs and one of those long elegant fingers zeroes in right there, circling softly, I'm on the edge in moments. All it takes is for Rune to whisper in my ear, in Asher Dillion's most confident, cajoling, sweet, low tone, "Come for me, Shelby," and the fireworks begin.

Oh wow. This is so amazingly delicious, "Get your condom," I actually do pant when Rune's hand stills. I'm still feeling crazy good sensations reverberating throughout my core. I want to feel him inside me when I'm like this.

He's in the process of tearing the packet with his teeth when Butterscotch barks sharply once. We both freeze, listening to the storm outside.

"It's just the wind," Rune insists, slipping the condom out of the packet and starting to put it on right as we hear Butterscotch run down the stairs, barking her head off at the now insistent knocking.