Regan dried off slowly, hoping that by some miracle Thanatos had grown tired of waiting for her. But when she opened the bathroom door, her heart leaped into her throat at the sight of him stretched out on the bed, shirtless, hands behind his head, an expectant gleam in his half-lidded eyes.
Good God, he was gorgeous.
She was in so much trouble.
She stepped out of the bathroom, her legs wobbly, her fist wound tightly in the towel around her.
Than’s lips quirked. “Waste of time to cover up, when you’ll be losing the towel in a minute.”
An awkward kind of terror seized her. “I-I don’t think this is a good idea.” No, she didn’t think it. She knew it.
“Are we really going to do this again?” Thanatos shifted slightly, making the tattoos on his bare chest writhe. They were amazing…layered on top of each other and yet each distinct. They’d been taken from his thoughts by a demon who imbued each with emotions so powerful that Regan hardly needed to use her psychometric gift to read them. Though when she’d used her tongue on them that once, all she’d felt was lust, and the memory dried her mouth so thoroughly she might as well have gargled with sand. “I told you what was going to happen.”