Page 65 of For the Sub

Slowly, he faced her.

The hollowness beneath his cheekbones startled her, taking away her breath.

In that moment, she knew that the pain she’d seen in his eyes earlier hadn’t been her fanciful imagination.

“No, I haven’t. And won’t—not ever.”

Because you can’t face that kind of loss again?

Feeling somewhat at a disadvantage now that the atmosphere pulsed with tension, she stood. “I’m sorry for your loss.” She chose her words with care. “I can’t imagine how bad it hurts.”

He exhaled. “Thank you for that.”

“If you want to talk about her at any time, please feel free. We can’t pretend that we didn’t have lives before we met.”

“You’re a persistent woman, Brandy.”

“A few people have used the word annoying,” she said, her tone light and teasing.

He responded in kind. “I can’t imagine why.”

She couldn’t help but smile at his answer. “You’re very polite, Sir.”

“Pays to be prudent when your hand is so close to my balls.”

“Polite and smart.” After sliding the soap into its dish, she took down the showerhead. “May I?”

“Please. I’m enjoying it,” he said, voice still tinged with unnamed emotion.

Right now, Brandy suspected they both needed a small reprieve.

For the next few minutes, she rinsed him, directing the warm water over his shoulders then moving the spray back and forth, going lower with each pass, making sure every bit of lather was gone. “Do you mind facing away from me again, Sir?”

Once he had, she reached for the soap again.

He caught her hand and put it on his chest. “Stop lollygagging and get on with it, pretty sub.”

Responding in kind, she asked, “Lollygagging, Sir?”

“You’re supposed to be bathing me.”

“That’s exactly what I’m doing, Sir.” She enjoyed every moment of touching him, his hands and chest.

A neat line of hair arrowed downward in an oh-so sexy way, leading her to his semierect cock.

Appreciatively, she caressed his shaven balls and silky skin, crouching to stroke his perineum. With each touch, his shaft grew.

Brandy savored the connection, the easing of the tension between them, and the way each of them had the power to make the other respond. “I could get you really clean if your legs were farther apart.”

“You need a bigger shower,” he said.

“This seems about right to me, Sir.” She was at his feet and couldn’t move away.

After making certain she’d reached every bit of him, touching, arousing, she rinsed him thoroughly. “Towels are on the shelves near the door.”

He exited to give her more space, and she showered quickly, anxious to be with him again.

While she was no longer accustomed to having a man around, this seemed natural.

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