Page 25 of The Commander

The corner of his lip quirked for a second before he nudged me down the hall to my bedroom. “Let’s go, gorgeous.”

Gorgeous.

I was so cold I wanted to slam myself against his nice warm muscles as he stood facing me on the tiled floor. But thankfully he turned and twisted the taps on.

My shivering ramped up and survival mode kicked in. I tugged at my wet top and pants, scrambling to get them off.

When Noah turned, I was in my bra and panties.

“Oh God, I’m so frigging freezing. Close your eyes.” I jogged on the spot.

“Not on your life. You’ve taken in every inch of me for the past thirty minutes, so fair’s fair.” He laughed, stepping to the side. “Get under the water.”

“It’s not the same. You’re a man.”

“Want me to take off my pants, Quinn?”

Yes.

That was hardly a threat; someone needed to tell him.

“No.” I stepped under the water in my panties and thong; then turned to face him. As his nostrils flared and eyes burned, I willed Noah to step under the water with me and do what we both knew we wanted.

We were both almost naked, after all.

All my reasons seemed to blur into ambiguity as I took in this huge, handsome man standing in my bathroom.

Take me.

Instead, I watched as he slowly swallowed, turned and walked out, shutting the door behind him.

Damn it.

When I came out in a dressing gown and slippers twenty minutes later, I thought he might be gone. Instead, I found Noah leaning against my kitchen counter with familiar aromas floating in the air. I watched as he ate from one of my Tupperware containers.

“Viss is dwelicuss,” he said around a mouthful and chewed. “Where did you order this from?”

I stalked over and grabbed it out of his hand. “I didn’t order it; I made it.”

“You made this?” His eyes widened, and he snatched it back, grinning.

“Why is that so impossible to believe? Because I do a man’s job, I can’t cook?” I frowned at him.

He took another mouthful, then handed me the container and fork. Without thinking, I shoveled a big mouthful of the spaghetti bolognese into my mouth.

“I didn’t say that. And the Army has been unisex for years. You need to ignore the few idiots that have an issue with it.”

Like my father, the Colonel?

I didn’t say that, though.

“What I’m shocked about is how good this is.” Noah took another mouthful.

Swallowing and forcing back a smile was really hard. I shouldn’t have been so happy that he loved my cooking, but I was.

“Thanks.” Noticing Noah was now wearing a black sweatshirt, I realized I was not being a good hostess. “Did you want a shower?”

Handing him the spaghetti, which we seemed to be sharing, he took another mouthful and placed it on the counter. “I shouldn’t.”