Page 72 of Full House

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

They were quiet on the drive home. Silent as they moved through the house, up the stairs, and to the bedroom. Nate still didn’t speak as Victoria watched him veer off to the bathroom. Then the silence was only broken by the sound of running water.

He reappeared a minute later, stalking to her and only stopping when he was right in front of her. His hand cupped her face, his thumb grazing her cheek, and it was then Victoria realized words weren’t needed. Everything he needed to say could be read in his eyes, in the expression of his face, and the soft touch that caressed her skin.

He loved her.

She hoped she conveyed the same emotion back when he looked into her eyes and felt the lingering touches she placed on his skin. She was confident he did when he let out a soft breath as his forehead fell to hers.

They stayed like that, breathing each other’s air, fingers exploring as if they’d never touched each other before. He drew her blouse over her head and removed her bra. She tugged at his t-shirt, raising it above his stomach, so he could yank it the rest of the way off.

His hands trailed over her breasts, down her belly to the waistband of her shorts, and with a flick of his fingers, he had them unbuttoned and the zipper pulled down. He slid his hands inside her shorts, under her panties, grabbing both ass cheeks, pulling her to him, and pressing her against his hard length. His lips descended then, his mouth covering hers, his tongue claiming entrance as his hands kneaded the twin globes of her ass. There was power and strength in his hold, in his kiss, but also an underlining tenderness that couldn’t be ignored.

Her fingers plowed through his hair, tangling in the thick strands, holding on as if she never wanted to let go. And she didn’t. If she could, she’d hold on for a lifetime.

He ended the kiss, taking a step back to slide her shorts and panties down her legs. She grasped his shoulders, stepping out of them and kicking off her shoes.

Lifting her, he cradled her in his arms and carried her to the bathroom. The tub was only half filled, but still, he set her down in it, the water reaching her, mid-shin.

She sat, hugging her legs, her cheek resting on her knees as she watched Nate strip the rest of his clothes. It was a sight she would never grow tired of. His chest and arm muscles flexed as he worked his pants down his legs, tossing them in the direction of his discarded boots and socks. In a few steps, he was by the tub, stepping in, and sitting, hugging his arms and legs around her.

And still, they didn’t speak.

He picked up a washcloth, wet it, then pumped a few squirts of body wash before taking her hand, extending her arm, and running the cloth over its surface. He did the same to the other before moving to her back, sweeping circles over her shoulders and down the length of her spine.

He pulled her back to his chest and ran the cloth down her neck and over her breasts, the scent of wildflowers mixed with the steam from the water drifting to her nose. She took a long, relaxing breath.

“The water’s going to overfill,” she said, breaking their silence.

Nate grunted, as if uncaring, as he continued administering lazy circles with the cloth over her breasts.

“One of us should turn it off.”

He grunted again but didn’t hinder her when she scooted forward, out of his embrace, to reach the knobs. She turned her body to face him, and he grabbed one of her ankles, lifting her leg out of the water and placing her foot on his shoulder. The action caused her to throw her arms back, catching herself before she landed in the water.

He pumped more body wash on the cloth then proceeded to wash one leg then, switching her legs’ positions, the other, being careful not to irritate the few tiny cuts courtesy of the falling lighting unit.

Seemingly satisfied she was clean, he stood, stepping out of the tub, grabbing a towel from the rack, and whipping it around his waist. She followed suit, standing from the bath, and as soon as her foot hit the floor, she was engulfed in a towel cocoon.

He dried every inch of her before throwing the towel on the pile of his clothes and taking her by the hand, leading her into the bedroom where he uttered his first words since arriving home. “Lay down in the center of the bed on your stomach.”

She turned to him, but he was already walking back to the bathroom. She settled herself face down on the bed as instructed amidst the clatter of Nate searching for something in the bathroom cabinet.

He returned, his knee dipping the bed, less than a minute later. Victoria started to rise to an elbow, twisting to look at him, but a hand on her shoulder prevented the move. She was further trapped when he straddled her legs.

An icy stream of… something hit her spine, and she bowed into the bed.

She heard a chuckle and then Nate by her ear, “Sorry, sweetheart, I forgot to warn you it would be cold.”

She felt his hands on her, massaging—what she assumed was—lotion into her skin. Whatever it was, it felt like heaven. He started at her nape then moved to her shoulders, his strong fingers digging into her flesh and bordering on just the right side of pain. His hands moved to the center of her back, working the muscles as they slid over her skin. Her lower back was next, him paying special attention to the sore spots on either side of her spine. She groaned, maybe even drooled a little. It felt that good. Then his hands were on her ass, kneading the mounds of flesh.

Eyes closed, she was lost in her own little world of pleasure until she was jolted from it when his finger slid through the crack of her ass. Her whole body stiffened.

“Easy.” She felt more lotion being dribbled on her ass cheek. “Do you trust me?”

She did, but that didn’t make it any less embarrassing.

At her hesitation, he continued, “I promise you’ll love it.”

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