Base by Cathleen Ross Page A

head and shoulders. It was glorious. Just for a second, she forgot that she hated him. ‘You’re wrong.’
    â€˜Yeah? What about?’
    The man had magic in his fingers when it came to touch. Up close his chest was broad, his arms muscled and he had flat, hard, lickable nipples. She closed her eyes, determined not to be mesmerised by his perfect physicality. ‘My vibrator’s six speed. Better than a man.’
    He turned her around so that she had her back to him, then he tilted her head, washing the shampoo out of her hair. ‘That’s because you’ve been with the wrong man.’ He reached down in front of her and stroked the tip of his finger across her clit.
    A pulse of pleasure hit her and she gasped.
    â€˜Guess your vibrator must have run out of batteries. You’re overdue an orgasm.’ He chuckled before bending and picking up the conditioner bottle.
    Her nipples peaked and while part of her wanted to curse him, the traitorous part of her body sang. As much as she didn’t want to admit it, not even to herself, Jack’s touch had the power to turn her on. The bastard. Soap stung her eyes. She spun around to face him and tilted her head upward to wash it out. ‘Don’t you dare touch me between the legs.’
    He slathered on the conditioner, his glorious fingers spreading it through her hair. ‘Just proving a point. Did it surprise you how much you enjoyed it?’
    She would have glared at him, but she was too busy washing the conditioner out of her hair and eyes. ‘I didn’t,’ she protested, spitting water out of her mouth.
    â€˜Maybe you’ll enjoy this more.’
    When she felt his two soapy hands massaging her breasts, his thumb and forefingers gently tweaking her nipples, she arched into his hands. Jack had been right, she was well overdue an orgasm. Her former lover had been concerned about his own pleasure and she, so ready to bask in his specialist knowledge, had let him get away with it. ‘Stop soaping me. Stop touching me.’ Turning her face out of the stream of water, she grabbed his hands, which were heading between her legs.
    â€˜You were going to say, “I’ll do it myself”.’ The half-grin was back and his green eyes sparkled with amusement.
    â€˜Give me the soap.’ On taking it, she lathered her hands not daring to take her gaze off him but he tilted the shower so that it sprayed right into her face. Blinded she felt him circle one arm around the back of her waist holding her in place, while the soapy fingers of his other hand slid between her legs. The delicious, slippery sensation made her moan out loud. He worked his fingers back and forward over her sensitive pussy lips. She opened her mouth to protest, but his own came down to claim hers.
    Jack could kiss. It was full, sensuous, take-no-prisoners claiming. He didn’t use his tongue, but as his lips moved over hers, he held her close and stroked her between her legs. The pleasure was so intense that she couldn’t fight, couldn’t struggle. He had her trapped in his powerful arms working two of his fingers into her to moisten them and sliding them over and over her most sensitive part. Her whole body tensed at his daring invasion and he stroked her rhythmically, until she groaned and writhed under his control. Possession. The word throbbed in her mind like a heart beat. How did he know how to touch her clit so deliciously that she was prisoner to his will? The thought took her to the brink until she shattered.
    Fighting to break his kiss, she jerked her head away, and gulped in air as another orgasm quickly followed, the rush of intensity zinging up her spine and exploding. Fireworks filled her head, so powerful she could hardly see. A deep groan left her lips as wave upon wave overtook her. Her legs wobbled but he held her tightly, his body pressing her up against the shower stall, his hard cock nudging her hip. His forefinger