Putting the shopping bag to the side, she pulled out a doughnut to nibble on and sipped her coffee while Adam finished up in the bathroom. The doughnut was so good she thought for a moment she'd pass out.

Adam exited after a few minutes with a towel around his waist. In the doorway, he halted, comb halfway through his hair. "Claire, if you sit around the hotel room naked, I can't be held responsible for what I might do."

She set her coffee cup to the table and stood. "Oh, I hope so." Keeping her gaze on him, she took the bag with the clothes and sundries, walked past him slowly into the bathroom, and closed the door.

It took Adam exactly five seconds to follow her.

He caught her by the arm and pressed her against the bathroom counter, facing the mirror, and bracketing her on either side with his hands.

He met her gaze in the reflection. "That sounded like a challenge."

Her lips curved in a smile so mischievous, she wondered for a moment who the woman in the mirror was. "You gave me a taste of everything I've been missing out on for the past five years, Adam." Her sly smile widened. "Can I be blamed for wanting another helping?"

Adam slid his hands up her body to cover her breasts. She watched in the mirror as his skillful fingers plumped and teased each nipple into a hard peak. Her breath came faster and her sex heated. His touch did that to her.

Adam's touch made her body want. Action. Effect.

Still holding one breast, he dragged his other hand down her flesh and between her legs. Eyes wide, she watched him stroke her sex in the mirror's reflection. His big hand moving so softly, so slowly. All to pleasure her. The gentle, giving action seemed so at odds with the sight of his forearm and upper arm, which was muscled and powerful—built to be a weapon, yet now bestowing soft erotic pleasure.

Her eyes fluttered shut and her head fell back as the now-familiar haze of lust began to swamp her mind.

"No," he commanded roughly. "Watch me touching you, Claire. Watch."

She opened her eyes again and focused on his hand between her thighs. The pressure of her impending climax building, she watched him ease a finger inside her and press his hand against her clit as he thrust in and out. He held her tight against his bare chest, other hand around her breast, fingers playing on her nipple.

Claire's cheeks were flushed and her lips parted. Her eyes were heavy-lidded, languorous, and her hair lay against her shoulders in lazy disarray. Her body tensed as she reached the maximum threshold and her orgasm washed over her. Claire's knees went weak as she came, and she gripped the edge of the counter with trembling fingers.