Page 67 of Sliding Into Love
Ethan huffed, cradling Ivy’s hips in his hands and pulling her forward to rest his chin on her sternum and look up into her eyes.
“Maybe I will.” His voice was rougher than usual. And he smiled lazily, sending sparking heat over Ivy’s skin. Ethan’s eyes went dark as he looked at her and worked his hands from her hips to her lower back before cupping her rear. “Maybe I’ll show you how pretty I think you are.”
Goosebumps pricked her flesh at his touch, and she let out an involuntary groan.
Ethan’s eyes went darker.
He slid his hands higher on her back until he grunted, audibly gritting his teeth. Ivy froze in his arms.
“I can’t lift my arm, it pulls too much,” Ethan grunted, lowering his arm, then pink spread over his cheekbones. “I need a shower, but I can’t reach high enough.” His voice was too deep to squeak, but it went much higher than its normal low octave.
It was adorable.
“Do you think you can help me?” He leaned back, looking down. “I can’t wash my hair by myself.”
“Ethan Fisher, are you trying to trick me into showering with you?” Ivy pretended to be shocked and scandalized, narrowing her eyes at him. Not that she minded the idea of showering with him.
“No! No! You can stay outside the curtain and reach in or something! Or I’ll figure it out!” Ethan was stammering, and Ivy glared down at him in mock seriousness, then pressed her forehead to his.
“Of course, I’ll help you. Go on. I’ll be back in a minute.”
Blood pounded in her ears as she watched him go into her bathroom. Shivers racked her body, a side effect of her earlier anxiety, and Ivy made her decision.
It felt momentous. A turning point to something deeper in their relationship, even after the landmark of their trauma sharing. Ivy knew suddenly she needed the intimacy ofbeingwith him, and she was pretty sure he needed closeness, too, after the night they’d had.
Taking a deep breath, Ivy undressed and entered the tiny bathroom’s steamy warmth.
“Hey,” she said shyly. “Do you still need my help?”
The curtain shifted aside enough for Ethan to poke his head out, and when he saw Ivy naked, his mouth fell open. His eyes raked over her body, and she wondered if spontaneous combustion was a possibility.
Still gaping, he nodded.
“Can I come in?” Ivy shivered despite the heat.
He pushed the curtain aside enough for her to step in.
“Hi,” she breathed, and for a moment, Ethan stood there with water coursing over him, tracing paths over his gorgeous muscles and down to his-
Nope. Eyes up, Johnson, Ivy thought.No shower shenanigans while he’s injured.
Ethan maneuvered them so Ivy stood beneath the spray, their bodies close but not touching as the water coursed over her hair and skin. The water was cooler than she preferred, and she squeaked and shivered, crossing her arms over her torso for warmth. Ethan chuckled and reached past her to turn the tap to the warmer side. The smooth, warm heat of his body slid against hers, and Ivy wished her arms weren’t blocking the slide of her nipples over his chest.
“So, you need help with your hair?”
“Mhmm.”
“Okay.” Breathlessly, she squeezed the travel-sized bottle, a handful of his minty shampoo squirting into her palm.
Then she glanced up to where his head was about a mile above her reach.
“Ethan?”
He took a moment to answer, seeming more interested in tracking the rivulets of water running over her chest and down her stomach.
“Yeah?” He was slow to answer.
“I can’t reach your hair.”
