His Gift (A Dark Billionaire Romance Part 2) by Dark Aubrey

Author:Dark, Aubrey [Dark, Aubrey]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2015-01-25T08:00:00+00:00

Chapter Six

Jake let my wrist go and stepped forward into the bathroom.

The room itself was all white marble, but the tub looked as though it had been carved out of a huge slab of volcanic rock—it was black, and as he turned the faucets on, white steam rose from the splashing water.

He adjusted the temperature of the water, then turned around, still sitting on the edge of the tub.

“Take off that robe,” he said.

I flushed. He had already seen my naked breasts—heck, he’d put my shirt on last night after I passed out, hadn’t he? Still, it felt strange to undress in front of a man. It was something I’d never done before.

I tugged the robe off of my shoulders. He drew a sharp breath as he looked over my body. I tossed the robe onto the ground.

“Now your panties,” he said.

God, his voice was something else. When he told me to do something, it wasn’t even a thought in my mind to disobey. It was like he was controlling my movements. More than that, the low growl of his words sent shivers through me.

My eyelashes fluttered as I shimmied my panties down to my ankles and then stepped out of them completely. I took two steps to the bath, wanting to get in the tub and out of his eyes.

He caught me by the wrist before I could step in.

“Wait just one moment,” he said.

I felt awful. In the bright light, he could see all my lumps and creases, all of the parts of me that bulged out where they shouldn’t. But in his eyes, I didn’t see the disgust that I feared.

Instead, I saw nothing but desire.

His tongue dipped out against his bottom lip. Goosebumps rose on my arms, not because of the chill. The way he was looking at me—I wanted him to look at me that way forever. I would do anything for him.

“Alright,” he said finally. “Get in.”

The water steamed around my legs as I stepped up and into the bath. I lay back against the obsidian edge of the tub. It was rounded. I sighed as the heat seeped into my pores, warming me through and through.

“Give me your foot,” he said.

My jaw dropped.

“What—”

“No questions,” he scolded gently. “Give me your foot.”

I raised my leg and he took my foot in his hand. He reached for the washcloth on the side of the tub and began to wash me. The white washcloth scrubbed the acrylic paints easily off of my skin.

It was strange to feel him rubbing between my toes. The feeling was oddly sensual. He massaged the soles of my feet and I couldn’t help letting out a soft moan of pleasure.

“I’m glad you like this,” he said.

A foot massage in a steaming bath with a sexy millionaire washing me? What’s not to like? But I didn’t say anything. I just let him wash me, the washcloth moving across my skin. He moved up to my legs and washed me there, the paint flaking away and settling to the bottom of the tub.

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