"I got that last time." She put the towel around her neck and swung around to walk to the cabin. "What else you got?"
He prowled behind her. "The ability to give you mind-blowing orgasms."
"Let me think about it." She was playing, too - he had to have scented her readiness by now. It was getting to the point that simply being around him aroused her, and wasn't that a kicker since she'd first bitten into him to assuage her hunger? "Amuse yourself while I shower."
She was a little suspicious of his ready agreement - Riley was practical, focused, honest, but he was no pushover. It made complete sense to her that they called him the Wall - this man wouldn't budge once he decided on something. He'd fight for it to the death. That's why, despite everything, she liked him.
And right now, it was obvious he wanted her. He'd come down here with the intention of smoothing matters over between them - and she knew full well that if she'd made things easier, he'd have taken it. Hell, he was a man, a proud, dominant man. But he'd been ready and willing to have her carve out a pound of flesh, which was why she hadn't clawed him as much as she'd thought she would.
But she wasn't in any way mistaken about the fact that Riley was who he'd always been. Smart, rooted in earth, and very, very determined.
So when he got all meek and compliant, the hairs on her arms rose in suspicion. Still, he seemed to be genuinely relaxed as he grabbed a beer out of her eco-cooler and sprawled on the sofa. Deciding that maybe he was trying to charm his way into her good graces - not that it would work if she didn't want it to work - she walked into her bathroom, stripped, and entered the shower.
The door opened a minute later to expose Riley standing there, beer in hand.
Scraping damp strands of red off her face, she glared at him. "I don't remember giving you an invitation."
"You said to amuse myself while you shower." A slow, slow, deliciously slow smile.
It said gotcha.
And Mercy realized that when a man who rarely played, played with a woman, hell, it was better than any kind of sophisticated charm on earth. Sniffing as if she wasn't completely delighted, she turned her back to him and lathered up her hair. She could all but feel his gaze sliding over her body.
Rinsing out her hair, she felt it slick down her back, pasting itself to her skin. Riley's arousal wrapped around her, vivid, strong . . . familiar. Her body responded, echoing and strengthening the erotic fusion of scents. It was another level of pleasure, a soft, invisible sea that caressed and tempted.
"Turn around." It was a husky request.
She glanced over her shoulder to meet his eyes. "Alright."
He didn't bother to hide either his surprise or his appreciation when she gave him the view he wanted. Those dark chocolate eyes had gone wolf on her - a stunning amber full of heat. "Pretty," she whispered, fascinated all over again.
He didn't seem to hear her, his eyes following the lazy movements of her hands as she used the fluffy loofah to lather herself up with peach-scented soap. Just because she was a sentinel didn't mean she wasn't also very much a woman. His eyes followed her every movement as she stroked the loofah down her neck, over her br**sts, and across her ni**les.
The beer bottle hung forgotten from his hand, his erection pushing so hard against his jeans it made her want to lick her lips. But she kept up the slow, seductive show. Because - and quite aside from the fact that he'd acted like an ass, but then turned up to take the heat - it was Riley's turn. He was an incredibly generous lover. She knew if she walked out to him and whispered an erotic request in his ear, he'd give her exactly what she wanted. Of course, his generosity also allowed him to retain control.
Mercy wasn't planning on letting that happen tonight. Because if they were doing this - and it appeared they were - then they were doing it together.
Stroking the loofah over her stomach, she spread her legs just a fraction . . . and dipped between.
He breathed out something that turned the air blue and placed the bottle on the ground before putting his hands on the bottom of his T-shirt.
Her eyes narrowed as he ripped it off to expose that mouth-watering chest. "You've got new bruises."
"They'll heal. And I wanted a fight." His hands went to the top of his jeans.
"I didn't say you could touch," she murmured, watching him toe off his boots.
"Yeah, you did." He unsnapped his jeans. "I scented it bright and clear."
She stroked herself between her legs, aware his eyes hadn't moved off her hand. "Ah, the good behavior's over?"
"Something like that." The jeans and underwear were kicked aside and he was walking over, stark male demand in every step.
He took the loofah from her hand. "Put your hands above your head."
The command in his voice curled around her, making her center throb. She'd always known she'd need a strong man so that didn't worry her. As long as what went on in bed, stayed in bed. Or in the shower. "Are you going to break my trust again, Riley?" There could be no mistakes, no blurred lines here.
He met her eyes full on. "Not on purpose. Never on purpose." He took a deep breath. "But I'm likely to f**k up when the wolf's riding me."
It was her turn to be surprised. "I should kick you out of this shower right now."
"Probably." Then he kissed her. "But you don't seem like the kind of woman who'd let f**kups ride."
She smiled. "No." Raising her hands, she crossed them above her head. "But, Riley, I'll only bend so far. You can't meet me halfway, this will end." It wasn't a threat. No, it was something far more important.