Page 181 of Never Die for a Sinner
“Why not?”
“Because it makes me feel things I shouldn’t.”
I’m so surprised by her answer that my voice gets caught in my throat. My blood roars to life, and my cock twitches.
Suddenly, I’m thinking about all kinds of stupid shit.Myring on her finger. Her carryingmybaby. She and I in bed every night and coming home to her every evening.
It can’t happen, but fuck if the fantasy isn’t tempting.
My hands take her hips, pulling her closer to me, and the water covers us both. I dip my head, my lips only inches from hers, and we share each other’s air.
I kiss her, drinking her in. Before the kiss can go too far, I pull back, forcing some distance between us. I just fucked her seven ways to Sunday, and yet, I could keep going. There’s no limit to my desire for her. To feel her coming undone underneath me. It’s maddening, but who the fuck cares? She stole my sanity a long time ago.
I reach for the shampoo on the ledge, and she shivers under the warm spray, letting it coat her cool skin. Motioning for her to turn around, I lather up my hands and take my time washing her hair, reminding her of everything I can’t say out loud.
“Mmm . . .” she moans while I massage her scalp.
“Baby, you’ve got to stop that.” She blushes when she realizes my cock’s hard against the small of her back again, but I notice the small smile tugging on her lips.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I’m sure you don’t.”
Once her hair is clean, I condition it. When I’m finished, I move on to her body, washing her. When I’m satisfied, she reaches for the shampoo and repeats the process for me, though it’s much harder for her to reach my hair, and I have to stoop down for her, making her laugh under her breath.
The sound hits me right in the fucking chest, and I have to remind myself not to stare at her too long because it’s like staring into the sun. Eventually, you’ll get burned.
There’s nothing sexual in the way we clean each other, and it strikes me that this is the first time I’ve taken care of another person like this. There’s this heaviness in my chest that refuses to leave and a desperation in the pit of my stomach that’s got meready to give it all up if she’ll agree to stay. Strangely, there’s also the desire to do this again and again. Take care of each other.
When we’re done, I help her from the shower and dry her off before brushing out her hair.
She yawns at her reflection, watching as I work the knots out of the dark strands. When we’re done, I take her hand and pull her back out into the cabin and to the bed.
Sleepily, she lets me pull her to the bed and under the covers, her head resting on my chest like she’s afraid to put too much weight down. Tonight is no different than the last three weeks, but at the same time it is. There’s something . . . more.
She stares at me, her eyes studying mine.
“Are you okay?” she asks finally, and though there’s a sinking feeling in my gut telling me to run in the other direction, I force myself to meet her gaze head-on. I reach up and brush the hair back from her face, my chest tight, and when she looks up at me, I’m overwhelmed with shit I’ve never felt before.
Her hand comes up to my cheek, brushing over the bruise forming there from the one punch the bastard was able to land on me tonight.
“I . . .” Fuck. Why is this shit so hard? “Let’s go to sleep.”
She’s silent, her breath catching, and her lips parted ever so slightly.
Leaning forward, I lay my forehead against hers, closing my eyes.
I take her hand in mine, holding it up to the moonlight. She’s so much smaller than I am that her hand looks childlike next to mine.
“One day at a time,” she whispers, before she falls asleep.
“Yeah,” I murmur, dread filling my chest. “One day at a time.”
The man wakes with a scream that could break the sound barrier.
“There he is,” Christian mutters, smacking the side of his face to wake him up.
Dale, who I suspect is shitting himself right about now, stares up at me from where he hangs upside down.
