Slow Seduction (Struck by Lightning) by Cecilia Tan Page B

didn’t?”
    “No, I was quite pleased.”
    “Really? Then I did it. I pleased you. Literally.” He wiggled his finger inside me and a wave of lust ran through my body. “Ah, stop it! You’re trying to weaken my resolve.”
    “I’m not. I promised I wouldn’t fuck you and that means even if you begged me to now, I’d know better than to do so. We’ve moved on to discussing whether you forgot to count anal sex, too, though?”
    “It’s hard to keep track of what we’re talking about when you’ve got your hand up my snatch!”
    He laughed and said, “I know. That’s the whole point. But you’re right. I’m undermining my actual goal, which is to hopefully figure out the puzzle that is you.” He slid his hand free and dragged his damp fingers across my belly. “Up. Into the shower with you. We’ll discuss this more when we’re clean.”
    He slapped me on the bare ass then and I yelped. “Oh, you infuriating, confusing man!”
    He rolled off the bed and sauntered toward the bathroom. “Ha. More infuriating and confusing than the master you’re saving yourself for?”
    “Yes!” I threw a pillow at him and he danced out of the way, laughing.
      
    Washing up was a brisk, genial affair. Despite the room’s luxurious size and the fact that there was a Jacuzzi tub for two, the shower stall was not large enough for both of us. We took turns; he went first. Damon made small talk while he scrubbed himself.
    “So have you had a chance to see the sights? Parliament, all that?”
    “Not yet. I’ve been working days at the museum—plus some nights, as you know—and I’m helping my landlords renovate in exchange for rent in the evenings.”
    “Oh, painting, that sort of thing?”
    “Demolition, mostly. This week, anyway. I’m going to try to get to York next week, though.”
    “For sightseeing?” He stepped out and toweled his hair, leaving it a mass of glossy black, not unlike Perseus’s in those Burne-Jones paintings.
    “I hear it’s really nifty. The old medieval city and all that. Plus lots of chocolate shops.” I got into the shower and shut the door. The glass was clear, not frosted, so he could see me perfectly well, and the stall was open at the top, so I could hear him as long as my head wasn’t under the spray.
    “Really? I was only there once, for a big to-do at the Minister. That’s the big church there. Always figured I’d go back, but, you know, it’s a big country.”
    “I’m planning to take the train.” The water was still hot from him using it.
    “Train is definitely the best way to get around. Ah, here’s a tip. Don’t be confused by the so-called National Rail. Unlike in America, there are lots of train companies. They’re like airlines.”
    “That would explain why there are so many train stations here.”
    He laughed. “I suppose. Never really thought about it.”
    I ducked my head under the water and when I came out he was in the bedroom, dressing. He had put on a casual shirt and what looked like soft pajama bottoms or sweatpants. He was pulling on a pair of socks.
    My bag and the pile of my clothes that had been by the door were nowhere in sight. I had a towel wrapped around my head but didn’t see anything else for me to put on. “Do you have something you want me to wear?”
    He looked up. “Your skin. I want you to be completely comfortable in your skin. Although, you’re actually far more at ease about it than I thought you’d be, Karina. I was expecting you to be all shivery and blushing when you crawled over to me.”
    “I wasn’t?”
    “Not like you were ashamed of being naked, or degraded by it. Which you shouldn’t be. You’re gorgeous. It’s no crime to be beautiful and it’s no shame to show it off. Something the Greeks understand much better than the English.”
    “It’s also a lot warmer in Greece,” I pointed out.
    “True. The warmer climates certainly encourage one to show one’s skin. Look at Brazil. Hmm, but then again,