RAYNE
The sponge was rough against my palm. Reid's skin was hot under my trembling hands. I started scrubbing his chest.
The metallic scent of rogue blood, mixed with his minty breath, made my head spin. He slowly raked his gaze over me.
Scrub.
I moved the sponge in small circles, washing the dried blood from the hard planes of his chest.
"You missed a spot," he rasped, his voice gravelly from the recent growls. His hand shot out, wrapping around my wrist.
I swallowed as he moved my hand lower. A sharp jolt went from my hand straight to my core.
I was soaked.
The realization was a humiliating flood of heat between my thighs. I moved lower, over the defined ridges of his abdomen.
I stopped, my hand freezing just above the waistband of his, my mind stuttered, he was still comp
