Page 61 of Nowhere to Hide
He turned the water back on and the suds slipped down my back and around my hips. There was little more than our breaths and the beating of water along the floor, but it didn’t stop thebuzz under my skin. And dear God, did I hope the bikini didn’t show how hard my nipples were.
His large hand spread across my bare belly to settle me against him more firmly so he could use both hands. The urge to groan was trapped in my chest like a baby bird. His fingers were gentle, but firm as he worked the suds out until my hair squeaked.
“I think I was a little heavy handed on the soap.” He handed me the conditioner. “How about you show me on this one.”
“I can do it.”
“No, just hold on. I don’t need you to fall with all the soapy lather around us.”
I sighed, but flipped the top on the conditioner and poured a good amount into his palm. “Just stay away from the scalp and we’re good. Or I’ll be an oil slick by tomorrow.”
He huffed out a laugh, and I felt his breath on my neck.
I closed my eyes and shifted, and the spear of pain canceled out any lusty thoughts.
“Hey, easy.”His arm slid around me to grip my hip. “You good?”
“Yeah, just moved wrong.”
“Don’t hold it in. Breathe through it, instead.”
I took a few long breaths and the pain subsided by the time he was sudsing my shoulders. The familiar scent of tangerine and musk of my bodywash filled the small space.
I took the sudser cloth from him. “You can uh, just do the water.”
“You got it.”
I quickly washed everywhere I could with the bikini on. I was slick and the soap was all around our feet. The industrial wrap on my thigh reminded me of the bandage post tattoo. The doctor told me I could only wear it the first day and then to try to give it as much oxygen as possible so I wouldn’t get an infection.
But at least for this shower I could just let the water all over me.
I straightened on my good leg and brushed along the front of his trunks. He tried to back up, but it was too late. There was no denying the close quarters was affecting him. I couldn’t blame him. Any woman rubbing up all over him in little more than a closet was asking a lot from him.
Then I lost my footing, and he grabbed me close. Back to chest, thigh to thigh. His big hand brushed my breast, but firmed along my hip. “Easy.”
“Sorry.”
“All good. We’ll get the hang of it.”
God, I hoped I could start showering alone soon. This was going to kill me each time.
“Can you stand up straight. I’ll rinse you all off.”
“Yes.”
I tipped my had back and enjoyed the warm water that slowly went cool. Finally, he shut off the water. Then a fluffy towel wrapped around me. He bundled me up and lifted me up.
I gripped his shoulders and looked up at him.
His face was stony and blank.
Here, I was half fantasizing, and he was probably annoyed that I was a klutz. So dumb.
He swung me through the door and out to the skinny hallway. “Why don’t you rest for a bit. I’ll cook something for us.” He set me down on the bed and left me without another word.
Yep, I definitely annoyed him.
I flopped back on the large mattress. It took up most of the room and smelled like him. Warm dark liquor and the ocean. The bed was framed with shelves. Books in dozens of genres were stuffed on the shelves. Some barely had a break in the spine, others looked like they’d been read dozens of times.
