What he needed now, what he craved from Gus Featherstone was her inner warmth her female essence. He wanted to know her baby soft skin, her mysterious heat, the curve of her body, the crazy beat of her heart. He hungered for the taste of lips that stumbled over words and sometimes couldnâ€™t get them out right. But if he let himself have all of that, or any of it, he might never be able to go back to what he had now, which was nothing. If he had a taste, he would remember what he was missing.
He would die from starvation.
She glanced over her shoulder at him, clearly curious about his intentions. He was down to two choices. He could walk out now and pay the price of denying himself, or he could stay and get to know the real Gus Featherstone. Either way he would pay.
The pipes rattled above them, and water danced on her shuddering body--her beautiful, naked, shuddering body. Just looking at her made him want to tear the place apart.
Hell, she was making up the rules as she went.
He would, too.