Page 59 of When We Break

“Never better.” I kiss the ball of her shoulder and continue undressing her.

“Can I touch you now?”

Smiling down at her, I nod, and she starts to pull my shirt out of my jeans, returning the favor of getting me naked. I love the fact that she knows to wait, knows to ask. I’d never demean her or take advantage of that trust. And I’ll never deny her unless I’m in the middle of drawing out her pleasure. When was the last time I found someone so sexually compatible?I doubt I have, if I’m honest.

Once our clothes are shed, we get into the shower, and I get to work.

I need to take care of her.Make sure she knows that she’s always the focus. Her needs. Her pleasure. Her satisfaction.

“You’re very good with your hands,” she says with a sigh as I rub a sudsy washcloth over her body.

“I’m touching you,” I reply, using the cloth to quickly wash myself. Then I can move on to what Ireallywant to do. “Now, back up to the spray. I’m going to wash your hair.”

“Oh, that sounds brilliant.” She doesn’t hesitate to tip her head back to get her long red hair wet.

I take my time massaging the shampoo into her thick strands and scalp. Her hands land on my sides, anchoring her so she doesn’t wobble.

Her touch sets me on fire as if she’s branding me.

“I’m going to say it again because it’s worth repeating. You’reexcellentwith your hands, Beck.”

I lean down to kiss her chin, then urge her back again so I can rinse the shampoo from her hair. I repeat the process with the conditioner. It’s not easy to get all the soap out of her long and thick hair when there’s so much of it.

Once we’re both clean, I turn off the water, then grab a towel to wrap her hair in before using another to dry us both off.

“First thing’s first,” I murmur, loving the softness of her skin beneath my fingertips. “I want you to put on the comfiest clothes you have with you. If you need to borrow a shirt of mine, that’s okay, too.”

“I wouldn’t pass it up.”

She pads to the bag at the end of the bed and pulls on clean underwear and some leggings, and I walk into the closet to grab her one of my old T-shirts, which, by the look of sheer joy on her gorgeous face, I’d say makes her happy. She immediately pulls it over her head and grins.

“It’s soft, and it smells like you.”

“Comfy?”

“Aye.”

“Good. Come on.” Taking her hand, I lace our fingers and lead her back into the bathroom. There’s a vanity space with a stool that I only use when Birdie’s staying the night because my niece thinks it’s fancy. I pull out the stool, and gesture for Skyla to take a seat. Then I move to the medicine cabinet and grab the ointment I need for her wrists.

“Oh, I don’t need that.” She shakes her head. “These will be gone by morning. It wasn’t that tight.”

“You’ll heal better with this.” I kiss her forehead and dab some of the ointment on my fingers, then soothe them over the small friction burns. “I’m sorry I left marks on you.”

“I’m not.” She bites that plump lower lip and grins. “Not at all. That was bloody hot.”

With a chuckle, I set the ointment aside, then tip her face up to kiss her.

“Yes, it was fucking hot. You’re not ready to run yet?”

“Why would I do that? I’d miss out on all of the sexy fun.”

I search her eyes, but I can see that she means it, so I take her shoulders in my hands and turn her to face the mirror.

It only takes me a moment to grab some earbuds and the blow-dryer, along with a comb. I tuck the earbuds in her ears, causing her to look at me with surprise.

“You should relax and listen to whatever you want. They’re paired to my phone.” I open the phone and hand it to her. “Play whatever you’re in the mood for. Music, podcasts, videos, I don’t care.”

“Beckett.” The word is quiet as she looks up at me in the mirror.

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