Page 44 of Web of Lies
It's been so long since I've been touched like this. Did Adrian ever touch me like this? I remember enjoying his attention before everything changed. I know I wanted him. I had to, right? But I don't remember Adrian ever doing anything to make me ache like this. I don't remember ever feeling this desperate for more of his touch.
Shaun gently rolls my nipples and I let out a quiet moan. My hips move almost involuntarily against his body and he growls against my neck. “I knew you'd be like this. Soft. Needy.”
I arch my back, pressing my breasts into his hands. “It shouldn't feel this good.” I rasp.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Wyatt's harsh demand makes me jump as he rips the shower curtain open, but Shaun doesn't stop touching me. If anything, Shaun's grip tightens, forcing another gasp from me as I slowly blink my eyes open.
“I'm helping Larken wash her hair,” Shaun says, slipping his fingers across my nipples.
Wyatt blinks at him, never moving his stare from Shaun’s face.
“She got dizzy and it was a,” Shaun stops to chuckle, “slippery slope. You want to get in with us? You can do the front and I'll do the back.”
Wyatt presses his fingertips against his eyebrow until the nails turn white from the pressure. “We're not doing anything to her. Get out.”
“No,” Shaun deadpans, and starts to slide one hand down my stomach. “She likes it.”
“I don't give a fuck if she likes it or not. I don't like it.”
“And I don't give a fuck what you don't like. She does.” Shaun emphasizes his declaration by pinching the nipple of the breast he's still firmly gripping, making me gasp yet again.
Wyatt's displeasure is palpable and his irritation is visible. “Stop now, Shaun.”
“No,” he says, running his lips against my still arched neck.
“This isn't part of the job, Shaun.”
“This isn't a job anymore, Wyatt.”
Wyatt reaches to grab at Shaun's wrist where it's paused over my belly button and Shaun snarls at him. “Don't touch me, Wyatt. Not even a little bit.” Then he goes back to speaking with his lips against my skin. “You don't have to be jealous. There's room in here for you.”
Wyatt's eyes widen then quickly narrow. “This is ridiculous.”
“I agree,” Shaun laughs.
“The water's getting cool,” I interrupt quietly. “And I still have soap on me.”
That stops their little argument and Shaun wraps his arms around me fully. “Now look at what you've done. She was dizzy and now you're going to give her pneumonia because you stopped a perfectly good shower to try to prove something,” he tuts. “Fix the temperature so I don't have to let her go. We don't need her slipping in the tub, now, do we?”
Wyatt rolls his head from one shoulder to the other. “Fine,” he clips, then reaches down to adjust the knobs until the water goes back to being nice and hot. “Better?”
I nod.
“Good,” he says, straightening. “Hurry up and get her out. She got dizzy because she's still on an intense calorie deficit. I'll reheat lunch. I put some clothes on the sink. Don't let her fall on the floor when you help her out.”
He turns for the door, but stops to add another order. “Do not fuck her, Shaun. I mean it. This isn't that kind of job.” Then he walks out of the room.
“It stopped being a job when we pulled her out of the trunk,” Shaun calls after him. “Alright,” he says to me. “Not that that wasn't just delicious, but that asshole is right. You need to eat lunch more than you need me to give you a thorough shower massage. Let's get you rinsed off.”
I let him do the work of rinsing the soap from my shortened hair and I let him rub and scrub almost every inch of my skin while he keeps a firm grip on my arm or waist. It's efficient. Clinical. Nothing like the way he was touching me earlier, and the loss of that warm ache is staggering.
“You can wash your bits and pieces on your own,” Shaun says. “I won't even watch.”
He's a liar. He does watch. But he doesn't offer to help, so I guess that's his version of being a gentleman.
“What did you mean?” I ask as he's helping me towel off after we get out of the shower.
“About?”
