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pretenses. “That’s okay. Where is the time going?” she asked inanely. “I better get a move on.”

“It’s only two o’clock.”

“If I’m going to die, I want to look nice.”

He didn’t appreciate her attempt at humor.

Forestalling him from continuing to talk about the club rules, Ginny began backing out of the room.

“Go ahead. We can talk about this later—”

“Fine with me,” she said, not realizing he wasn’t done with his sentence.

“—tonight,” he finished.

Damn, when Gavin got on a roll, he could beat a dead horse to death. How had she never noticed that before?

“Fine!” she snapped. Allerton was probably going to kill her, so it wouldn’t matter anyway.

“I’m not going to let Allerton kill you.” Reaching for her plate, he began wolfing down her leftovers.

“I didn’t mean to say that out loud.”

“Well, you did. My offer to relax you is still open, by the way.”

“I’ll pass.”

Belatedly, a light bulb went off in her head as to why she didn’t want to discuss what went on in the club and why she was backing away.

The sexual magnetism emanating from Gavin had her scenting danger. Sexual energy was pouring off him in spades, winding around her like an imaginary rope drawing her back toward him.

Ginny grabbed the doorjamb, feeling ridiculous while, at the same time, wanting to go to back to the table and lick every inch of his body. She’d been attracted to Gavin since she first set eyes on him. The man was undeniably eye candy.

Something had been imperceptibly changing—or returning?—so slowly, and it had gone unnoticed until it was practically hitting her in the face. Analyzing the change, Ginny took a few seconds to recognize what it was. Then clarity struck.

His sexuality, which had been traumatized during his captivity, was remerging. Jeez, the man was like dynamite without a freaking fuse, and what would be worse was Gavin figuring it out. He’d be unstoppable where women were concerned … Hell, anyone with two legs and a …

Ginny turned tail and ran like a scalded cat.

She took off her clothes, then turned the shower on before she even took her bra off. Slinging her bra to the floor, Ginny stepped into the shower and snapped the door closed.

Letting the spray dampen her hair, she placed her hands on shower wall, letting the cold water cool her down. The sexual hunger she had just experienced had taken her by surprise. Gavin never had a problem getting a response when he touched her, but him being capable of making her wet just by staring at her was a shock to her system.

She jerked her head to the side at the sound of the shower door opening and closing, and reflexively lifted the washcloth to hide her breasts. “What are you doing?”

“Taking a shower with you. There’s no need wasting water.”

Keeping the washcloth in place, Ginny freed one hand to attempt to shove him out. “I wanted some privacy.”

Grabbing her hand, Gavin moved her so she was standing in front of him. “What’s the big deal? We’ve showered together before.”

“The big deal is I wanted to be alone.”

“Cool. Just ignore me.” Taking the washcloth away from her, he squirted body wash over her breasts.

“Excuse me …” Turning around, she tried to take the washcloth back. “How am I supposed to ignore you when you’re doing that and … are poking me with that?”

“Ignore it. I am.”

“You’re just going to ignore it?”

“Yup.”

Ginny scowled at the big buffoon as he smoothed the cloth over the body wash, creating a slick foam.

“It’s not a big deal.” Sliding to her other breast, he used his body to force her backward against the wall.

“It is a big deal.” Ginny tried to twist her pelvis to the side. “You’re drilling a hole into my stomach.”

Gavin lowered his mouth to her neck. “I’d rather drill a hole somewhere else.”

Trying to swat his dick away, they ended up tussling in the shower; Ginny lost the battle when Gavin lifted her up, and afraid he would drop her, she wound her thighs around his hips.

“I’m not in the mood.”

“Then why are your little nipples cold?’

“The water’s cold,” she snapped, managing to get the washcloth away from him, then buried his face in it. “You had a spot of gravy on your beard. I took care of it for you,” she told him, trying to scrub his face off.

“You can be a vicious little thing when you want to be.”

“And you can be a hound dog when you want to be.” Glaring at him, she smacked him with the washcloth. “There, I missed another spot!”

Ripping the washcloth away from her, he tossed it over the shower stall. “I’m not a hound dog. They go after any pussy available. I know which one I’m after.” He rubbed the head of his dick suggestively between the cleft of her thighs.

“You used to be, didn’t you?” she bit out between gritted teeth, fighting the rush of warmth the cool water wasn’t helping quell.

“Of course not. I’ve always been a one-woman man.”

Ginny stared at him suspiciously. “Seriously?”

“Would I lie to you?”

Doubts surfaced, but Ginny took his word for it. Why would he lie? She stopped her struggles, thinking she had made a mountain out of a molehill. Maybe her nerves were just getting the better of her and she’d overreacted.

“Did that make your mood better?” He grinned, flexing his hips toward her again.

“I’m getting there.”

Sliding his wet hair away from his face, Ginny scanned his innocent-looking face for any sign of deceit. “You’re too sexy for your own good.”

“Who wants to be good”—slipping the head of his dick easily inside of her opening, he traced her earlobe with his tongue—“when it’s more fun to be bad?”

Gavin took control of her senses with each plunge of his cock, smashing through her uncertainty as if using a magic wand. Raspy sighs came from both of them as a passionate haze surrounded them.

She scored her fingernails through Gavin’s hair to go his shoulders, down his back, wanting to leave her

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