Page 79 of Taste of Forever
Before I could even say his name, Laith was there. His hand wrapped around my arm and he gently righted me. He took the full force of the spray, becoming completely soaked. In the next moment, he slipped behind me and brought both hands to my waist. Holding me steady.
“Go ahead,” he said. “I got you.”
I hesitated, glancing at him over my shoulder. Water plastered his hair to his skull and dripped down his face like tears. His gaze was down and to the side, keeping me in his periphery without looking full-on.
Between the support of his hands, I managed to shampoo and rinse my hair twice then rub in an obscene amount of conditioner. My arms were fatigued from the effort but I felt a thousand times better.
With my hair done, a new challenge emerged.
“Laith?”
“Yup?”
“Can you move the shower head? I need to use body wash.”
One hand lifted away from my waist and the water overhead began spraying the shower wall instead of us. And then his firm, secure hold returned to my waist without any comment.
“Thank you.”
“Of course.”
Washing my body was far more nerve-wracking than washing my hair. I knew he wasn’t looking, knew he was being steadfast and silent to keep me comfortable, but his presence was overpowering as I soaped and scrubbed my most intimate areas.
With my limited balance and mobility, there was also one place I couldn’t easily reach.
“Um, do you think you could wash my back?”
Laith said nothing, but his open hand appeared in front of me. I placed the loofah in his palm, and his other hand gently transferred from my waist to my upper arm. The sponge swept across my upper back and shoulder blades in firm, circular strokes.
My eyes fell closed and my lips parted in utter bliss. God, what would a massage from him feel like? Every touch between us until this point had always been fleeting, which felt like adamn crime. His hands on me in this shower had to be the longest time he’d touched me continuously since we’d first met.
His steadying, solid contact, plus the simple intimacy of washing my back, made me want this shower to never end.
I wanted more of his touch, in fact. And I wanted him to look at me.Reallylook at me like he used to. With desire.
Too quickly, his scrubbing reached my lower back and lifted away just above my butt. “All done. You ready to rinse?”
“Yeah.”
The stream of water returned, cascading over my hair and body. Washing away the alley, the dried blood, the terror of that moment. I knew, every once in a while, all the memories and intense fear would pop up to haunt me. But for now, I felt a quiet calmness settle in to my bones.
“Okay,” I said to Laith once all the soap and conditioner ran down the drain. “I’m ready to get out.”
He reached forward and shut off the water. “You good with the wall for a sec while I grab you a towel?”
I planted my palm and forearms against the wall, making sure I was secure before giving him the go ahead. He left the shower, then stuck his arm back inside the curtain, holding a folded, dry towel.
“Thanks.” I pressed soft fabric to my face, neck, and chest with my free hand.
“Do you need help with, um…”
“Uh, yeah. Maybe.”
Laith was back in the shower a second later, helping me unfold the towel so I could wrap it around my body. The whole time, his eyes were downcast, and I started to think he was taking the not-looking thing a littletooseriously.
“I’m going to let you sit on the toilet again for a second,” he said, leading me out of the shower. “I’m going to change into dryclothes. Things are getting wrinkled that I’m pretty sure aren’t supposed to.”
“Do I even want to know?” I snorted, dropping onto the toilet lid.
