Page 8 of All Her Broken Pieces

“I got you,” I say before picking her up and moving toward the en suite. Using my foot, I push the door open so we can enter, then grab the handle to the shower, opening it and depositing her onto the bench seat on the tile. I turn on the water, hissing as the cold water hits my back.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m shielding you from the spray until it warms up.”

“That’s… that’s so…”

“Considerate?” I finish her thought.

“No one’s ever made this much fuss over me. I’m not sure I like it,” she says, shifting uncomfortably on the tiled seat.

Who the fuck has she been with that failed to see her for the queen she is? Failed to worship her and treat her right?

“I don’t know why. A queen deserves to be pampered, and that’s what I intend to do.” Slowly, the water heats, and I pull her up against me. A shiver passes through her as I move her into the warm water. “I know you have a routine in here. What do you normally start with? Shampoo?”

“What? Um, yeah, I shampoo first.”

“Tilt your head back.”

“Why?”

“I’m going to wash your hair.”

CHAPTER3

Bridget

No one’sever washed my hair for me—well, not outside of a salon. Certainly, none of my previous hookups. It’s intimate, and I don’t do intimate.

“I can do it myself. I’m a big girl.” I laugh nervously, pushing at Ethan’s chest.

He grabs my wrists and holds me flush with his hard, naked body.

“I know you’re fully capable, but I’d like to do this for you,” he pleads as he flashes me that dimple. Releasing me, he snakes his hands up my back and into my hair. Applying pressure to my scalp, he makes small circles with his fingertips as the tension slowly eases out of my muscles.

“I’ll let you do anything you want if you keep doing that,” I moan. Fuck that dimple and its magical powers.

He reaches over and grabs my shampoo, squirting a generous dollop into his palm. He turns me around so my back is against his chest and rubs his hands together before massaging the suds into my scalp. Fuck, that feels so good. I melt into his chest. My shower has a massage head, and he removes it from the holder as he begins to play with the nozzle.

“What are you doing?” I ask, confused.

“Finding the right pressure. Too hard, and it’ll splash into your eyes. Too soft, and it’ll take too long to rinse out.”

“Are you the Goldilocks of washing hair? All the women you sleep with must love this.”

Chuckling, he uses his hand to shield my eyes from the soapy water that runs down my face as I tilt my head further back. “Close your eyes,” he says, ignoring my jabs.

After a few minutes of the most amazingly intimate experience of my life, he continues, “You keep making light of this experience, but I’m serious about wanting more than one night with you. I’m not going to scare off that easily. I have five younger sisters, and they will confirm that I’m great at washing hair. My mom—well, technically stepmom—needed my help with bathtime so we could get through it faster since my dad was always working, and I helped wash hair for as long as it was appropriate for an older brother to do so with younger sisters. And to address your other comment, all the women you speak of are few and far between. I don’t have a lot of random hookups, and I’ve never done this with anyone.”

That is equal parts endearing and terrifying. I can picture him kneeling on the floor next to his mom as little girls splash water in the tub. As an only child, I didn’t grow up in that kind of chaos, and I’m not sure it’s something I’d like to participate in. And the thought that a man like this has not only done it, but probably wants to experience it with children of his own one day, is the reality check I need to cut this off before it goes any further. I cannot give him the future he craves.

“Where’s that beautiful head of yours at, sweetheart? I spent five minutes massaging the stress out of you only for you to go rigid in my arms.”

“Thank you for washing my hair. But I need to remind you that this is just for tonight.”

“I’m not asking for a lifetime. Just one more night, and then we’ll see where it goes from there.”

“That’s the thing. It’s not going anywhere else. I don’t do relationships, just sex.”

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