Free Impulse by Dannika Dark Page A

closer to my ear. “Then we would be lying wet and almost naked together… in the dark.”
    My breath quickened.
    “Come with me.”
    He tugged my elbow and with cautious steps, we entered the shower. The water quietly sprayed the floor, which was made of gritty stone, providing enough traction that my fears of falling took a backseat to what Logan was about to do.
    Or not do. I wasn’t sure which idea I liked better.
    We moved beneath the hot water and a purr rumbled in his chest—one I’d never heard before. It was deep, sinful, and provocative. One of the most enthralling qualities about Logan was the unusual Chitah sounds he made—animalistic and led by emotions.
    “Do you want to know what I find most attractive about you?” he asked, breaking the silence as he backed me up near the wall.
    Logan was on bended knee and lifted my foot, placing it on his leg. My fingers searched for the wall as soft bristles circled across my ankle—soapy and wet.
    “Um… my charming personality?”
    He laughed softly. “Your legs.”
    The scrubber moved upward, swirling in heavenly motions across my knee.
    “They’re long and delicious. You may not be as tall as a Chitah, but no one has legs more dangerous than yours.”
    What was dangerous was his mouth. The more he kept talking, the less I wanted him to.
    “Although, I do spend a considerable amount of time thinking about your tongue.”
    Likewise , I thought.
    “I’ll make a note of that.” He chuckled.
    Oh, my God. Right there in Logan’s shower, I wanted to die. He wasn’t a mind reader because I had said it out loud.
    It had been so long since I’d been with a man that all of my confidence evaporated.
    His finger trailed down my leg and I shuddered. Part of my brain fired off, wondering if that was his tongue.
    Here he was, about to explore every inch of me with his bare hands, and I reacted with more innocence than I possessed.
    “Reach up,” he said. “There’s a bar above your head. I want you to grip it.”
    I tentatively lifted my arms and found a solid metal bar for hanging towels. It was cold and my fingers curled tightly around it. I stared into the darkness and waited for direction.
    “I’m going to put your leg over my shoulder.”
    My mind raced as I imagined what he looked like sitting on his knees. The wet skin of his back warmed my leg. Logan continued the slow, methodical motions along the outside of my upper thigh, but he didn’t stop talking. I heard him set a bottle on the floor and cool liquid soap trickled down my skin in rivulets.
    Stubble grazed the inside of my knee like worn-down sandpaper, and his heated breath caressed my skin as the water sprayed against his back. He was so close to the most intimate part of me and I knew he could smell my desire.
    “Tell me one of your fantasies,” he said.
    I swallowed hard.
    The scrubber tumbled against the wall, replaced by his firm hands rinsing the soap from my thigh. This was not a clumsy man filled with lust; Logan’s hands were skilled and knew their way around a woman’s body.
    “When I take you, Silver, I want it to be to your liking. I don’t know you intimately; do you prefer a male to be rough or gentle?”
    The hot water didn’t have anything on the heat of my blush as I dropped my leg to the floor. It didn’t deter him as he continued to wash me.
    “I don’t… I don’t know.”
    No one ever asked me; no one ever wanted to know. Logan had a way of making me nervous, and I didn’t have that familiarity with him to speak so candidly about such personal things. He was well over a hundred years old. That kind of experience could make even the most seasoned woman feel like a wallflower.
    “You know what you like,” he said decidedly. “No better time than the present to learn more about the female I’m courting. This is something that we discuss.”
    By “we,” he meant Chitahs. In my book, this was dirty talk, but for him it was a perfectly legitimate conversation so