Page 40 of The Captain's Bounty
“Up.”
She stood, backing away when he stood up too.
“Thank you for not spanking me,” she hurried to say, hoping it was still off the table. That look he’d just given her and considering the question that still remained unanswered between them, it might not be.
Finally, Bruwes nodded, then thumbed at the bathroom door. “Let’s go.”
Oh. Shower time.
Why her embarrassment soared just then, she couldn’t say. She’d been naked this whole time. She’d sat in his lap, straddling his legs, with him staring right at her, for heaven’s sake.
And he’d definitely been staring… at her mouth. Not her breasts or her pussy, but her lips.
Now he was going to run her a shower.
At least he’d finally be taking the handcuffs off.
Or so she thought, right up until he was in the bathroom with her, the door hissing shut behind them, and with a tap of the button on the shower’s metal frame, that one twisted open too.
She thought the bathroom was small before, but standing as still as possible while she waited for him to squeeze past her and turn the recycled water on, was a whole new definition. She’d never been more aware of any other person in her life. She’d never been kidnapped, force fed, physically punished orhad a guy stick his finger up her ass to “help her remember” her good manners. It had worked though, while she couldn’t for the life of her remember what they were talking about at the time, she would never forget the shock of being penetrated like that while he scolded her. Never mind what he actually said, that feeling, that completely unexpected, foreign and yet not entirely unpleasant sensation of having an object shoved past the first knuckle up her ass—her ass!—haunted her.
“Feel,” he said, stepping back out of her way so she could lean in and check the water temperature.
Oh, she was feeling it all right. She could feel it in the prickling of her skin all down the leg she slipped under the spray, not to mention the side of her body that brushed up against him when she did it. It was in the way she warmed from the inside out when he didn’t move—neither to back away nor to inch closer. She could almost swear she felt the penetrating thrust of his finger still.
He wasn’t her friend. This wasn’t a hook-up from the bar during a brief layover between dig sites or on a supply run into town. It sure wasn’t a fun little tussle beneath the covers, or even a regrettable lapse of judgment to leave snoring behind her as she dressed in the dark and snuck away. He’d been very blunt about his intentions.
“Good?” he asked, and she nodded. She needed to get her head on straight and stop acting like a horny teenager with her very first?—
Taking her by the elbow, Bruwes pushed her into the shower, and he didn’t take her cuffs off to do it.
She barely sucked a startled breath before he had her head in under the spray. It doused her, running into her face, obscuring her vision… but not before she saw him strip out of his uniform. She snapped around, almost bumping the wall with her nose ashe climbed into the tube behind her. The door twisted shut then, trapping them in the shower together.
If the bathroom was small, the shower tube was tiny. No matter how she wiggled, every nervous movement had her bumping up against him.
“What…” She almost swallowed the water streaming over her head and down her face. “What are you doing?”
“How else are you to wash with your hands cuffed?”
He was going to wash her? That was at once the worst thing she’d ever heard… and the most arousing. Her mouth actually ran dry.
“Please let me do it myself,” she begged.
“Must I fetch your gag?” he countered, just before the hot steam flowing around them suddenly became scented steam. He was soaping his hands, and she couldn’t even turn around to see with what.
It smelled good. It smelled really good.
It smelled like him.
Or rather, he smelled very faintly of it.
Either way, oh god...
She jumped when he brushed the back of her shoulder.
“I thought you said you weren’t going to draw me a bath,” she blurted out of sheer nerves.
“This isn’t a bath. It’s a shower. And you can’t exactly do it yourself.” He swept her long hair up in gentle hands, rubbing the soap into her wet tresses and sending tingles racing though her skin. She’d never tingled for anyone before that wasn’t at least a thousand years dead.
