Hugh had changed clothes after he’d left. He wore a pair of dark jeans, boots and a simple white T-shirt that clung to his muscles. She dropped her gaze from broad chest to yummy hips, to worn brown boots then slowly made her way back up to his face.
Today his black and blue eye was a little less bruised, but green tinged the outer corner. He looked delicious and menacing as hell. She almost popped her head back inside the shower.
With a lazy movement, he hitched his leg upward and tugged off one boot. When the other hit the floor, there was no more guessing his intention.
He was getting in with her.
She quivered and tried to roll up in the shower curtain. He’d seen her nude, sure, but she was standing. Her heavy breasts drooped and it was impossible to hide that little pooch of fat around her waist.
“Let me wash your back, baby.” His jeans hit the floor, star-shaped belt buckle clinking.
God, he wasn’t wearing…underwear.
She gulped as his glorious cock sprang free, rigid and proud. A trim path beelined from his navel to his pubic hair. More hair coated his strong thighs, dark and sparser.
All man. Damn, he was a beautiful specimen.
Sucking in hibiscus-scented air, she withdrew her head and fought rising emotions. Panic mingled with raw desire.
Hugh stepped into the shower behind her, his big body crowding her out of the spray. He hooked an arm around her middle and pulled her back against his body, letting her feel every muscular inch.
Particularly the inches nestled against the seam of her ass.