Page 75 of The Souls We Claim
“Let me,” I say, uncrossing his arms. I reach for his cut to slip it off.
“I don’t usually let anyone else touch my cut.”
“Then tonight will be a first.” Gently, I slide it off his shoulders. He’s usually gruff and in charge, but tonight I think he needs softness.
I place it carefully on the chair outside the bathroom door. The weapons are gone, but his holster remains, and I remove it. He’s wearing a black T-shirt. There are sweat marks all over it. I slip it from his black military-style trousers and pull it over his head.
Jax raises his head, his eyes searing me with emotions he seemingly can’t put words to. I run my hands over his shoulders, over his chest, down his abdomen until I reach the now empty weapons belt he was wearing earlier.
I don’t ask where they’ve gone, simply remove it.
When I drop to my knees, Jax tries to stop me. “You don’t need to do this.”
With a smile I say, “I know.”
I remove his socks and notice that his heels are a little dry and cracked. I’ll fix that later, but I love that he has a singular imperfection. His jeans are easy to remove. His boxer briefs, a little harder.
His cock is soft, which, considering I’m on my knees, says a lot about his frame of mind.
Jax offers me his hand, and I stand, glancing at the bathtub. “Get in,” I say.
“Will you get in with me?” He releases his hair from the braid but immediately puts it up in a messy bun I’d be proud of.
“Not yet.”
Jax lumbers into the tub, eases back against it, closes his eyes, and sighs. “I’m fucking tired,” he says quietly.
“You’ve had a lot to deal with. Your dad and his estate. Taking responsibility for Lola. Whatever is happening at the club. Me.”
He smiles at that. “You aren’t any bother. And you help with the other stuff. Lola. The house. Me.”
It’s my turn to smile as he repeats my phrasing. I dip the jug I rinse Lola with into the water and pour it over his shoulders andchest. Then I grab the washcloth, dip it in the water, and begin to wash him.
The house is quiet around us as I make my way over his body. He chuckles as I lift his arms and clean his armpits, but otherwise, he keeps his eyes closed. His chest rises and falls in a steady pattern as I wash over the hair and the ink that covers his pecs.
His abs ripple as I clean them too. It’s intimate, but not sexual, even as I see his cock harden. There’ll be no sex tonight.
I want him to rest.
I move to the bottom of the tub and start on his feet, cleaning between his toes, which also makes him laugh.
“I need to remember you’re ticklish, Jackson Flynn.”
He opens his eyes. “Why?”
“I don’t know. It seems like information it might be useful to have.”
“Because you might need it in the future?”
I pause at that. “I hope to be here in the future, so yes.”
He sits up at that, water splashing everywhere, wetting my pajamas. “Good,” he says before pressing his lips softly to mine. “Because that was the other thing I was thinking about today, when I saw those two kids living in that shithole. Life is too fucking short to walk away from the best thing that ever happened to you because you don’t think the timing is right. Or because she’s too young to know better.”
I splash water in his face at that. This time his laughter echoes off the tiles as I rest my chin on my arms on the rim of the tub.
“You really mean that?” I ask.
His eyes focus on me so intently, I swear he can see into my soul. “With all that I am.”
