The Ashtons - Cole, Abigail & Megan

her mind, but with very little effort, he should be able to take her mind off of it for a while. He stretched out his legs and his foot brushed her hip.
    She jerked upright, giving him a brief but tantalizing glimpse of her peaked pink nipples. Then she was underwater again, glaring at him. “Hey! Personal space!”
    “It’s a tub, Megan,” he drawled slowly. “There’s not enough room for personal space.”
    “It’s a big tub,” she countered, narrowing her eyes at him.
    “Big enough,” he allowed.
    Her eyes went to slits. “Big enough for what?”
    “All kinds of things.”
    “Okay, bath time over,” she announced, then added, “close your eyes.”
    He grinned, laid one arm on the rim of the tub and lifted his glass for another sip. “I don’t think so.”
    “What?”
    “I said, if you want to get out of the tub right now, you’ll have to do it with an audience.”
    She inhaled sharply, deeply, and Simon thought, if looks could kill, he’d be dead, buried and his grave danced over.
    “Not much of a gentleman, are you?”
    “Nope.” But damn, he was enjoying himself.
    She grumbled something he was probably better off not hearing, then glanced to where her robe hung on the back of the door, more than six feet away. Apparently, she was trying to figure out just how good a look he’d get at her if she made a run for it.
    “Why don’t we just sit here and relax together?” he suggested, shifting his legs and moving along the circumference of the tub, inching closer to her.
    “You’re inching,” she accused.
    “Who, me?” Yep. Really enjoying himself. And he couldn’t remember the last time he’d smiled this much.
    Megan blew out a breath and drained the last of her wine. Holding her glass out, she said simply, “More.”
    Simon nodded, reached over the edge of the tub for the bottle and topped both glasses off. Then he set the bottle back down and moved in closer—as he’d been planning to do all along.
    The woman tormented him without even trying.
    She was acting like a reluctant virgin and had him behaving like a cartoon villain.
    He really liked it.
    She watched him. “You’re inching again.”
    “No, now I’m actually sliding.”
    “Why?” she asked.
    “Are you serious?”
    She blew out a breath. “Okay, fine. I know why. But we agreed to a week to get to know each other.”
    He smiled slowly and watched her teeth tug at her bottom lip. Amazingly enough, he felt that tug all the way to the tips of his toes. “What better way to get to know each other than by sharing a bath?”
    “Oh I don’t know… bowling?”
    He chuckled and slid up beside her, pulling her close. The hot water rushed around them, slapping at them, caressing them. “We’re not dressed for bowling.”
    “Seriously Simon…”
    “Why be serious now?” he asked, dipping his head closer, closer. He tasted her. One quick nip of her mouth that left his senses reeling and sent his heartbeat into overdrive. His body went rock hard and needy, and the pulse point at the base of her throat jittered as if she knew exactly what she was doing to him.
    “Because,” she said, leaning her head back against his arm and staring up into his eyes. “We made a deal and—”
    “The deal was, no sex.”
    “You’ve really got to stop interrupting me.”
    He grinned. “Sorry. What were you going to say?”
    “Uh…” She stared up into his eyes. “About what?”
    He set his wineglass on the wide edge of the tuband dropped his free hand into the water. He just wanted to touch her. Had to feel the soft silk of her skin. He needed it more than his next breath. Wanted it more than anything he’d ever wanted in his life.
    And couldn’t have stopped if there’d been a gun to his head.
    He cupped her breast, thumbing her nipple and Megan sighed, arching into him and tipping the rest of her wine into the water.
    “Simon…”
    “This isn’t sex,” he reminded her, his voice a soft hush, barely heard over the slosh of the water as she moved. “This is just touching.”
    “Yeah,” she said on a sigh, “but…”
    “Let me touch you,” he whispered, dipping his head to where her nipple just crested the surface of the water. He took the small pink bud into his mouth, tasting her, teasing her. But it backfired on him.
    Not only was he tormenting her.
    He was driving himself over the edge.
    One taste would never be enough.
    “Simon, oh, don’t stop…”
    Her voice, in breathy little gasps, fired his body