Page 28 of The Wing
I scoff. “Did you honestly justshushme?” I forget I’m naked sitting in jasmine-scented water as indignation spreads through me. “Hemi Carter, I swear to god if you put that on me while I’m sitting here, I’ll…”
“You’ll what?” He comes closer, rubbing the gel between his fingers.
I cross my arms. “I’ll…I don’t know, but I’ll think of something,” I threaten. “I’m sure Daisy can come up with something.”
Hemi kneels beside the bath. “Daisy’s not here. Lean your head back for me.” I glare at him, and he adds, “Please,” with a pout I’d do anything to see again. So I lean my head back and stare at the ceiling sullenly.
“This is what I get for going hiking. Sore muscles and a sunburn with a rugby player who thinks I’m incapable of putting on gel.” I flinch when Hemi’s hands spread across my cheeks, covered in cold gel.
He rubs small circles across my cheeks and over my forehead, feather-light to avoid aggravating the burn. My eyes fall shut, and I stop running my mouth. It’s nice. More than nice, having his hands on me.
The gel warms as Hemi strokes my skin, and I turn my head to face him. My eyes flutter open to find his face close to mine.
“Thanks,” I whisper. His hazel eyes are dark and soft, like moss in a forest you can curl up in, and creased at the corners. Full of something I can’t name.
“You’re welcome.” Hemi brushes a finger over my eyebrow and down my cheek to rest at the corner of my mouth.
Hemi leans in slowly, giving me a chance to pull away, and presses his lips to mine. His lips are plush and warm as they move over me. Hemi leans closer, pushing me against the porcelain, and my wet arms wrap around his shoulders, tugging him to my chest. I open my mouth for him and gasp when his tongue strokes mine. He pulls away panting and mouths down my neck.
My head tilts back as far as I can on the porcelain, and I say, “Are your muscles sore?”
Hemi pauses swirling his tongue on my pulse. “Why?”
“The water’s still warm. You should get in,” I rush out before I lose my nerve.
Hemi lifts his head. “Really?”
“If you want to.” I shrug to hide the fact that I really,reallywant him in the bath with me. “I can’t send you back to Daisy with sore muscles.”
“We definitely don’t want that.” Hemi rises from the tiles and yanks his shirt over his head.
My mouth waters. I possibly drool. I scan from his neck to the trail of hair disappearing into his pants. As the right-wing for the team, he needs to be fast and light to get the ball over the try line, and his body shows it.
His shoulders are wide and taper to his waist with slight indents where a six-pack would be. I’m assuming it would be more prominent after working out or a game.
A light dusting of hair covers his chest, and his nipples are hard and a dark brown. I want him closer so I can suck them.
Hemi’s fingers tuck into the waistband of his pants, and I jerk my gaze away, realising I’ve been sitting and staring at him hungrily.
I hear clothes hit the tiles and wait for him to join me in the bath. We didn’t discuss whether he’d get in opposite or behind me. Should I move?
Hemi’s hands land on the porcelain, and I close my eyes as he lifts a leg over the rim of the bath. I shift my legs to allow room for him, and he settles opposite me, sending water rippling.
I open my eyes, and my breath catches. I can’t stop the grin from forming on my lips. Hemi’s in the bath with me. Withme.Daisy is never going to believe this.
Droplets of water cling to his collarbones, and bubbles decorate his shoulders. My eyes widen when he shifts his legs to bracket mine, and he grasps my ankle.
I gulp at the feeling of his hands on my foot. “What are you doing?”
“Massaging your muscles. Can’t have Daisy find out I broke you, can I?” Hemi digs his thumbs into the arch of my foot, and I swallow a gasp at the feeling. I don’t manage to stop my eyes rolling back.
My god, he has magic fingers.
“She would congratulate you for getting me out of the house,” I say, finishing with a small moan I can’t quite catch when he shifts his fingers to sweep up my calf. He finds a tight spot and lingers. Shifting his fingers gently, digging only slightly so it doesn’t hurt, and sweeping back down to my ankle before he starts again. I melt against the porcelain and stare at him through hooded eyes, ignoring the stirring below my waist to enjoy watching him.
He looks edible. His hair curls in the steam, frizzing around his temples, and my fingers itch to toy with the strands.
“I need to thank her,” Hemi mumbles, and before I can question what he means, he leans forward and sweeps his hands to my thigh. I suck in a sharp breath and tense. “Is this okay?”
