Piper’s heart thumped—and warmed. “You have got to put something on.”
“I’d love to put something on,” Jory murmured, his voice lowering to hoarse and hot. Those eyes darkened to the color of the storm clouds outside, lit within from heat. A whole lot of heat.
A shiver wandered down her spine, and her thighs softened. She ignored her traitorous body and rolled her eyes. An impish part of her would love to take him by surprise and agree, but he’d no doubt meet her halfway, and then she’d be in a pickle. So she went for defensive, unable to keep her lips from twitching. “Knock it off.”
“I can’t seem to help it.” Good humor creased his cheek. Yet he sighed and turned to rummage through a cupboard near the fireplace. Seconds later, he’d wrapped a worn flowered blanket around his hips.
He should’ve looked ridiculous, yet the feminine cover-up just enhanced his wildness.
And something wild lived in Jory. There was no question.
A part of her, one that she’d tried to tame with logic and computer science, perked up. Temptation to meet his wildness with her own warmed her core and softened her thighs.
His gaze grew predatory, as if he sensed the battle waging inside her.
Her heart beat hard enough to speed up her breath. The storm raged outside, while the fire crackled inside. She swallowed, trying to control herself. Enough of this silliness. “Turn around.”
He turned around, once again revealing his warrior’s back.
The man embodied danger, and she had to keep that foremost in her mind. Most serial killers were sexy and charming, too.
Shit. She’d said that out loud. Her fingers cramped when she shoved off her wet clothes, hurriedly wrapping the rough blanket around her. Why did he make her feel like a bumbling innocent? “Um. Okay. I’m not a virgin for Pete’s sakes.” She mumbled the last.
He laughed again as he turned to face her.
She frowned. “You heard that?” How in the world? She’d mumbled so quietly she couldn’t even hear her voice, and yet he’d somehow heard her? Supersonic hearing wasn’t possible, was it?
“Yes. I’m not a virgin, either. Was that an invitation, by any chance?” Boyish hopefulness curved his lips.
Hell. There wasn’t anything boyish about the man standing strong and sure, the fire lighting him from behind. “No.” Her nipples hardened in pure denial to her words. “Not a chance.”
His gaze penetrated her, and a long shiver wound down her spine. His gaze darkened. Yeah. He’d seen the shiver. Damn it.
“Are you sure?” he rumbled.
Her voice trembled. “Yes.”
“Okay.” He reached for her discarded clothing to spread out near the fire.
His acquiescence sounded temporary somehow.