Page 21 of Creatures Like Us
A crease forms between his brows as he glances down at my clothes. “I’ll ready the bath. I won’t look.”
“Okay.”
We switch positions. I end up by the doorframe to the bathroom while Noah bends to turn on the tap. He’s still holding the knife, so I start undressing—lifting my grimy shirt over my head and unbuckling my jeans. He’s already seen me naked once, I suppose: when he was heating me up in front of the fireplace. When he was saving my life.
As the bath fills up, his gaze drifts toward me now and again before he quickly looks away. His long hair hides his face as he leans forward, but the bob of his Adam’s apple is clearly visible on the long line of his throat.
“It’s okay,” I say, amused. “You can look.”
This is fucking weird, but it’s kind of funny too. He’s so awkward and shy, my little kidnapper, even with a knife in his hand.
“I’m not going to look.” He sits on the closed toilet seat, motioning to the steaming bath. “Just get inside.”
“Fine.” I do want to get clean, after all. Messing with Noah can come later. I swing a leg over the tub and step inside, hissing as the water licks my calves.
“Too hot?” Noah asks behind me.
When I turn around, he’s staring at me with a startled expression, as if he surprised himself by looking—not because he wanted to see me naked, but because he was simply concerned for my well-being.
“Sorry,” he says quickly, shutting his eyes.
I smirk back at him, my naked body contorted and turned halfway as I sink into the tub, but I bet he got a glimpse of my ass.
“No.” I chuckle at the absurdity of the situation. “It’s perfect.”
“Can I look now?”
“Yeah, you can look.” The bubbles are covering my private parts, and besides that, he wouldn’t be able to see anything from his angle.
We lapse into silence for a while. I lean my head back, surrendering to the heat. Whenever I send a glance over at Noah, he’s just watching me with that impassive, leveled look on his face. Seems like he’s already used to me being naked in front of him. That was quick.
“Like what you see?” I ask with a sly smile.
Yeah, Ash—you feel so sick you could throw up right in this bath, but you can still muster up the energy to flirt? Got your priorities straight.
“L-Like?” Noah stutters, cheeks tinting red, giving me the exact reaction I wanted.
“Yeah,” I say casually, glancing down at myself, at my bare chest sticking up above the water. “You like guys, right? Do you like me?”
Noah shrugs stiffly. “I don’t know.”
“Oh, come on—you have to know.”
“I don’t know what I?…?like.”
I roll my eyes. “Of course you do. When your dick gets hard, that’s how you know what you like.” I cast him a sly glance. “Is it hard right now?”
Noah’s cheeks go an even deeper red at first, but then his eyes darken. “No,” he says roughly. “Hurry up and get clean.”
I pout at him. “But I can’t. Don’t have any conditioner.”
“Just use soap.”
I grimace. “But what will become of my luscious curls?” Not that they’re all that luscious right now with how greasy they are.
“They’ll be fine,” Noah mutters.
“Can you help me?” The question is genuine for once; it’s easier to let someone else clean your hair, and as sick as I’m feeling, I’d rather avoid as many exertions as possible.
