Page 84 of Silenced

My eyebrows are turning into caterpillars.

“If you want to shave me,” I say with a sniff, “don’t ask questions.”

“There are no windows in here,” he repeats.

I snap, “I’m not trying to escape—” I blink. Did I just say that? He looks as shell-shocked as I am. “—I just want some treats.”

Likemyshampoo and conditioner. I don’t give a damn if the stuff he bought cost a fortune, I want my grocery store shit.

And if I’m being honest, I’d kill for some wax too.

I mean, what Ireallywant are clothes but that’s a big ask for what I intend to be our first negotiation for my basic human rights.

Softly, softly…

If this is actually happening, if this is my new normal, then it’s time I got some kind of worldly pleasure.

Even supermax prisoners get those.

That’s when he surprises me—he nods, then with his soap-lathered hands, he smoothes them over my less-than-silky legs.

Flushing with embarrassment because PCOS means I’m hairier than the models I’m sure he normally dates, I watch his eyes lock on mine as he continues spreading the bubbles over my calf.

Wanting the letter of the law carved into freakin’ stone, I insist, “Do we have an agreement?”

You have to pin a guy like this down—I’ve learned that already.

Soapy fingers tell me, “We have an agreement.”

About to be satisfied in more ways than one, I take control of this situation and arch my foot then set it on his shoulder. “Go on. I want my orgasm.”

His smirk makes my core burn with heat, but I ignore it. Then, I suck in a breath when he presses the razor to my ankle—it doesn’t tickle when he starts to shave me, but it’s more intimate than I’d expected.

For endless moments, there’s silence between us as he works.

Then, once that calf is complete, he continues with the other.

When he’s finished, his lips quirk into another smirk—damn, he looks prettier when he smiles. Even if itisa smugsmile.

“Trust me with your pussy now?”

I have no idea where the demand comes from, but I make it nonetheless: “How many orgasms do I get as a reward?”

His brows lift, but the gleam in his eyes makes warmth puddle in my core.

“Two.”

Somewhat shakily, I nod my agreement then watch as he goes through the same motions, switching on the water again only so he can create more of a lather.

As he soaps me up, I tremble then freeze when he draws the razor through the bubbles and metal meets sensitive skin.

I’ve never thought this could be in any way sexual. Couldn’t have imagined Harvey wanting to tend to me and, not having done this to myself, it’s an entirely new experience all round.

The breath I hold, however, has nothing to do with nerves.

As he works, his fingers smooth over my most intimate self, and my body, confused, reacts as if he intends to tease me, to entice.

I bite down on my lip as I stare above his head, trying to shift my focus, my awareness.

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