Page 130 of Cruel Lies

I was an idiot for her.

Only for her.

Her long, black tresses clung to the side of her face, soaked from the shower, and I checked the urge to move them out of her way when she nodded in agreement. I had to swallow the urge to moan as I let her body slide down the length of mine, painfully aware of how naked she was in front of me.

Her shirt was ripped down the middle, her breasts exposed to the chilly air, nipples pebbling against my chest as they pressed into me through the thin fabric of my silk shirt. I could practically feel the heat from her core as it brushed against my hip, her hands still locked in place behind my neck.

Fuck me, man.

"Sit," I commanded, pointing to the nearby bench. Her eyes flashed with that bratty urge to defy me, but as if she could feel that I wasn’t in the mood to play games, she slowly eased herself against the wall and collapsed onto the bench, clinging to my arms to steady herself.

I couldn’t believe the fucking audacity my cock had to twitch in my pants at the sight of her, naked as the day she was born except for the torn, ruined shirt hanging from her shoulders like a shawl.

My hand reached out to slide the remains of her shirt over her arms, and she shivered at the touch of my fingers gliding across her skin. The soft whimper that slipped from her lips was torture in all the best ways.

Suddenly, I could see why Nash liked to cause himself pain.

Torture was sweet when you were denying yourself something this luscious.

"I can wash myself, you know," she started, but I covered herlips with my palm, reaching out with the other hand to grab a nearby bottle of body wash.

Mountain Spring Man. Ew, no, thank you, Ro.

"Do you have any soap in here that’s yours?" I asked instead, ignoring her comment entirely. If I was going to live like a eunuch, then I was going to enjoy this one moment of bliss, dammit. "I don’t want my sheets smelling like my brother."

"I could sleep in his bed, you know," she offered. "He wouldn’t mind. Besides, you act like you can’t stand me, so I don’t know why you insist on keeping me close."

"Someone has to watch you and make sure you don’t get into any more trouble." I grabbed the pink bottle hidden behind my brother’s duplicate and almost-empty shampoo bottles. "This will have to do."

The soap was cool in my hands, a contrast to the steaming hot water that cascaded over us now. I wondered if it would hurt her to have the shock of hot and cold. My hands froze as I lifted them to her shoulders, suddenly self-conscious and unprepared for the closeness of the moment.

"I . . ."Fuck. No, let’s try again."Sit the fuck still so I don’t hurt you any worse."

She blinked at me as I knelt in front of her, head and all now under the spray, and moved to lift one of her feet from the floor.

"You look good down there," she sassed as I ran the bubbles over her ankle and calf, switching to the other leg with single-minded precision and gentle touch.

"Fuck off," I snapped back, refusing to smile as she slammed her legs closed in a small effort to preserve her modesty. "For someone who throws herself at me any time you get a chance, you sure are shy now."

"Throw myself at you? As if." That little eye roll she pulled almost made me smile.

Almost.

"See where throwing yourself around gets you?" I pointed at her torso, where the gauze had started to come loose. There was a lot of blood. And if I didn’t already have my hands full cleaning her up so she didn’t look like someone murdered her, I’d be more irate about it. "You’ve likely pulled all your stitches, bitch. And I’m no seamstress."

"I think you meant surgeon."

I shook my head, strands of my pale blonde hair sticking to my shoulders, my face, my throat, scattering the shower spray everywhere. "Same thing."

Her soft skin felt like satin under my fingers as I ran more suds up her leg, moving over the outside of her thigh achingly slowly. Every little twitch and sigh she made was like a language in and of itself, speaking to me the secrets she didn’t want to give voice to. Each time my fingers glided higher, that bottom lip of hers sucked in between her teeth so she could chew on it, just like old times, when her anxiety got the best of her.

It reminded me of a better time. A time when we were more comfortable around each other. A time when I wouldn’t have hesitated to lean in and take advantage of her nudity right in front of me.

Two perky breasts stared me in the face from less than a foot away, and yet somehow I kept my cool, reaching for her arms next. Of course, I had to lean in to grab them, and the sudden moment must have destabilized the both of us.

One second, I was on my knees on the floor of the shower, at her feet, and the next, I was between her legs, face pressed against her chest, arms on either side of her planted against the wall to keep myself from hurting her.

I don’t think either of us breathed for a minute. Maybe two.

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