Page 81 of The Prospector's Only Prospect
“You’re supposed to politely turn your head. You know how modest I am.”
She sputtered a laugh and twisted around. “From what I recall, you’re not built modestly. More like branch wood— Hey!” Another splash hit the back of her head.
“Smart-ass. If I come in there, we’re getting married. You know that, don’t you?”
She twisted around to see him stripping without ceremony, balling up his cloths and stuffing them next to her own. His coat was draped over his boots.
“Then you should stand there naked—” Whew.
He stood unabashedly nude, radiating confidence and power with his broad shoulders and muscled chest. His body hair was the same dark brown as his beard. Short, wiry wisps grew from his breastbone toward his tight, beige nipples. His torso wore a fading tan, and his hips and thighs were pale and planted firm.
She’d never actually seen Ben’s penis, only Harley’s little dangler when she bathed him. Virgil’s was—
“This is what happens when I’m cold. All right? Now you’ve seen me naked, you have to marry me.” He came in with a lot more grace than she’d managed, seeming well-practiced in where to brace his hand and where to step his feet.
He pushed off and bobbed into the middle with asploosh, submerging before his head reappeared. He gave his hair and beard a scrub. Another rinse and he skimmed the water off his face, releasing a long gust of breath that clouded the air.
He turned his head, and his silver eyes seemed to pierce straight into her soul, snagging her heart like a barbed fish hook.
“Come here.”
Chapter Twenty
What had she done?
Even though the water had loosened her joints and made her bones feel like pudding, tension invaded her belly. Her skin seemed to have shrunk.
“I can’t swim.”
“Can you stand?” He rose and water sluiced off his torso down to where the surface lapped at his navel.
“Oh. I couldn’t see the bottom. I thought it was over my head in the middle.”
“Muck settles on the rocks so you can’t see them. Makes it slippery, too.” He lowered to submerge his shoulders again and drifted closer. His hand searched for hers beneath the water. “You want to kiss and seal the deal? Or do you need more time to think on it?”
He looked strange with his hair slicked back. More open. His scar was turning bright red, but his expression was relaxed. Perhaps he’d dropped his guard this once. For her.
She was still trying to form sensible thoughts, but her hand went into his of its own volition. The offset smile touched his mouth again as he drew her toward him. In a brief panic, her feet tried to find purchase and her hands sought the solidity of his shoulders, but she didn’t fall under the water. He manipulated her so she floated into a seat across his thighs as he found a rock to settle on.
She scrambled to be sure her chemise was pulled all the way down, but as her bottom came to rest on his thighs, the firm swell of his erection prodded her cheek.
“Oh.”
“I’m warming up,” he said drily.
She cupped his beard, aligning her thumb along his scar. “Did you bring me up here to make love to me?”
“I thought about it. I can’t help thinking about it. It happens even when I sleep, but I was only trying to make up with you. Give you a treat and maybe talk without the children eavesdropping. I want lovemaking to happen, but I don’t expect it.” His hands shifted on her, making the calico feel like an obstruction. His heavy-lidded gaze held hers, and his voice roughened. “Isit going to happen?”
“It feels like it is happening,” she said with a rueful husk of a laugh.
“Does it?” He lowered his head, lips almost touching hers. Beneath the water, his hand shifted so his thumb slid beneath the swell of her breast, then brushed over the tip.
She caught her breath.
His lips formed a wicked smile. His mouth brushed damply against hers while he caressed her nipple again, circling and sending lightning strikes into her loins.
“That’s why I can’t stop thinking about you,” he confided in a graveled whisper. “You act like my touching you is the best thing you’ve ever felt.”
