Page 21 of His to Bedevil

“No puedo.”I can’t. “Now, take your shirt off before I do.”

My eyes widen once again indignantly as I take a step back. “You wouldn’t.” I drop my arms and ball my hands into tight fists. Ready to strike.

He shrugs undeterred and steps forward. Using his large hands, he grips my shirt at the collar, taunting me. “No? I am asick freak, am I not?”

“Alejo,” I warn.

One corner of his mouth twitches. “Last chance to do it yourself.” I stand there obstinate and unwilling to surrender. “Very well, my love.” Before I can blink, he tears the shirt in two with one jerk. My jaw drops, and I try to close the shirt back up, but he locks my wrists in his hands like iron shackles. As I struggle against him to free them, he yanks my body into his, and I freeze. He’s staring down at me with his eerily calm face. “The more you struggle, Irma, the more I need to touch you. Do you understand?” Gulping, I nod my head. “Good.” He releases my wrists slowly, and I drop my arms back down to my sides. I’ll play nice and pretend to capitulate for the time being.

With his eyes still on mine, he brushes his fingers along my clavicle, leaving goose bumps in its wake. His calloused fingers slip under the torn fabric of the shirt at my shoulders and slide it off. The shirt glides down my body and falls to the floor, leaving me there naked. When he leans in toward me, my body tenses up, coiled tightly. He puts his lips right next to my ear. “Now be a good girl and get in the shower,” he murmurs, and I feel my nipples harden into tiny buds.

It’s all the incentive I need as I step around him and practically leap into the shower. Keeping my eyes anywhere else but outside of the shower where Alejo is undressing, I stand under the hot water, letting it soak my hair.

Closing my eyes, I lean my head back, and I can feel when he steps into the shower to join me. I squeeze my eyes shut when I feel him come to stand right in front of me. In this commodious and lavish shower of his, why does he feel the need to invade my personal space? If I open my eyes, I’ll see him naked. When he was naked in front of me last time, I was so out of it I didn’t even notice until he put a towel on. Now? I amveryaware.

I’m massaging my scalp under the water when he gently pulls them away and places a kiss on the back of one hand. My eyes pop open just in time to see him place a kiss to the other while keeping his eyes on me. “Relax,mi pequita.” He places my hands at my sides, and I close my eyes once again when he replaces my hands on my scalp with his. Tenderly, he massages his fingers while the hot water continues to rain down on me. I almost feel pampered and a bit cherished.

He ends up washing my hair for me, and when he’s done rinsing out the conditioner, my legs begin to feel shaky. “Come here, my love.” His accent is thick and smooth like molasses, spellbinding me and lulling me into a trance.

With sluggish movements, I open my eyes halfway and let him pull me down onto the built-in bench there in the shower. The tiles are cold against my ass and thighs, but the support is welcome.

He turns around, and I watch the muscles of his very perfect and very smooth ass flex as he walks over to the other end of the shower. When he turns back around, my eyes pop open all the way and I’m instantly sober.Oh. My. God.Alejandro is packing a fucking anaconda down there.Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit.The harder I stare, the bigger it gets, and it’s not because he’s getting closer. “You can’t keep staring at it like that,mi amor.” His voice is all husky and deep.

I keep looking at him as if I have never seen a man before. Like I’m this innocent and naive girl and not the cunning and experienced woman I actually am. Feeling suddenly embarrassed, I squeeze my eyes shut, and I hear him chuckle.

I smell something manly and fresh as something soft but bristly touches my shoulder and begins gliding across my chest. I realize that he’s now washing my body with a shower loofah. It must be his body wash that he’s using because it smells oddly familiar.

“You have the most beautiful skin, Irma,” he rasps.

I lethargically peel back my eyelids and find him crouching down in front of me. His eyes are locked on mine as he moves the loofah over my skin. “I’ve always hated it.” I don’t know what possesses me to say that.

He frowns a little and tilts his head. “Por que?”Why?

I snort. “I live in the Sunshine State, and I easily burn. I have to load up on sunscreen before stepping outside in the daytime. I would do anything to bask in the warmth of the sun and not have to worry about burning to a crisp.”

He continues staring at me as he washes me. “Your mother. She’s Cuban, no?”

Looking away, I swallow the sudden lump in my throat. “She was, yes.”

“Was?” he questions, and I want to tell him to shut the fuck up. “Is she dead,mi amor?”

“You tell me.” I turn my head back to him and meet his eyes. “Don’t you know everything about me and my parents?” He only stares at me, and it gives me my answer. “You don’t know everything.”

When he moves the loofah between my legs, I sharply inhale. He platonically washes it without taking his eyes off of mine and then moves on. “I know more about your parents than I know about you, unfortunately. All we could find on you is only what is on your birth certificate. Also, that your father died when you were six and your mother, according to records, is still alive, living in Miami.”

Biting my lip, I fight back the tears that are threatening to well up. I’ve gone from feeling irascible to feeling weepy in seconds. “How do you know?” I whisper. “How are you sure that she’s still alive?” Last I saw her, I was already three years into the foster care system and she showed up at my school one day. Claiming that she just wanted to see me, but I saw the track marks on her arms and the way she kept jittering. I told her I wanted nothing to do with her and to never reach out to me again until she was clean for good. That was the very last time I saw her. I assumed she had eventually overdosed.

“There’s no death certificate.” He uses a soft tone. Lifting me up by my armpits, he steadies me on my feet. Once again, I have to pin my eyes on his so that I’m not tempted to look down. “We’re almost done here.” He pulls me to the water raining down and places me in front of it so that it’s hitting my chest. He stands behind me and washes my backside. Still not touching me in a perverted way. No groping or copping a feel.

The loofah leaves my body, and he wraps himself around me from behind. I can feel his erection dig into my ass, but he doesn’t grind it into me or rub it against me. “Why would you think your mother is dead,mi amor?” he whispers into my ear, causing my eyes to shut.

“It doesn’t matter,” I whisper back.

His hands are resting on my much flatter stomach. “Lay your head back, my love. Relax.”

My body listens to his command and sags against his. I am too drained to argue or fight, and it’s not long before I feel like I’m falling asleep on my feet. I hear the water turn off and try to peel my eyes open, but it’s futile. One of his arms leaves me, and a moment later, he’s wrapping me in a soft and fluffy towel. My lips twitch at a faint memory.

I’m able to crack my eyes open when Alejo scoops me up into his arms and exits the bathroom. “Tell me what you’re thinking about, Irma,” he says quietly, and I close my eyes once again with my head resting on his powerful shoulder.

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