Page 27 of Vicarious

Why does this sound more and more like a setup the more I hear about it?”

“But you must be tired and want to rest and get cleaned up before everything,” Phae says softly, cradling my face with one of her hands and meeting my eyes with her deep brown. Then she runs her hand up and down and says, “And you need to shave.”

“I’m thinking of growing it out.”

Phae laughs. It’s the exact reaction Dele had when I said the same thing to her.

Rather than acknowledging it, I walk off and head to my room to do just what Phae said. Only to walk into my room and find Dele steaming a suit for me.

“Viper,” she says with a smile that doesn’t bode well and sets off alarms in my head.

I close the door behind me.

“Dele. What are you doing?”

“I’m helping you get ready for your date with Phae.”

“I can see that. Why?”

She pouts, and I’m half tempted to pull my gun on her because what the hell?

“Well, I knew you’d be tired after your mission and thought you’d want some assistance. That way you could just relax and get as much rest as possible.”

I begin to case the room to look for… well anything. A hidden assassin. A suspicious bottle of cologne. Anything that might be a trap.

“Viper,” Dele says in that longsuffering tone she uses when she’s trying to be patient with me or is totally exasperated with me. “What are you doing?”

“You’re trying to kill me. Aren’t you?”

She laughs as she crosses the room toward me. She presses a kiss to my mouth and says, “You’d know if I were trying to kill you. And if I were, I wouldn’t give you time to ask me.”

Of that I don’t doubt. But I can never be too careful, I’ve learned.

“Why don’t you get in the shower?” she suggests.

I still check to make sure she hasn’t rigged the bathroom or showers some kind of way, even though I sincerely doubt she’s trying to kill me. Then I decide to roll with whatever the fuck it is that Dele has planned and strip before getting in the shower. I’m sure whatever it is that Dele has planned, she’ll make sure I find out.

And then I see her enter the bathroom through the frosted glass shower door. See her strip off her own clothes before she opens the door and walks in. Just seeing her walk into the shower naked is enough to cause my breath to hitch and my cock to begin to stand. Fuck. How does she do this to me?

“What are you doing?”

“Helping you get ready,” she says. “Making sure you’re relaxed.”

She grabs the earthy, smoky fragrance liquid soap and the exfoliating brush. Then she meets my eyes with her hazel ones and doesn’t break eye contact as she pours the soap onto the brush. And fuck if this isn’t the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. Doesn’t make me want to press her against the wall and fuck her right now. I take a step forward to do just that, but Dele takes a step back and shakes her head.

“Not yet. Let me wash you first.”

She sits me on the shower ledge and starts with my neck and shoulders to wash me. The right side first. Deliberately slow as though she personally wants to make sure every piece of dirt and germ is off me. She slowly makes her way to my left shoulder. The sore one. And I can’t help but wince.

“Relax. Let me help you ease the soreness out,” she mutters, running a soapy hand down the other side of my chest, briefly pinching my nipple on the way back up.

Then she goes back to scrubbing my shoulder. This time harder than on the right side, hoping to work out some of the soreness. Slowly I relax as some of the tightness eases away for the first time in days, practically melting into her hands as I close my eyes and tilt my head backwards.

She continues the rest of the way down my body. My chest. My ass. My legs. She pays special attention to my cock, massaging the soap there and around my balls with her bare fucking hands and making sure to stop before I can even get close to getting off from it. But close enough that I’m panting and losing my breath as she does so. And when she’s done there, she uses those same hands to spread soap on my face and head.

When I’m covered with soap, she unhooks the handheld showerhead and begins the rinsing my body. She starts by taking a clean cloth, wetting it, and wiping the soap from my face, carefully keeping the sprayer away from body in the meantime. Then, once my face is clean of soap, she leans forward and kisses me. Not my lips. But my forehead. My entire face. And then my lips. But it’s not long. Barely more than a peck. Certainly nowhere near enough to begin quelling the ache I have for her.

Then she takes the sprayer and begins to rinse my body in the same order that she washed it, starting with the right side of my neck and shoulders. And then, after a while, I’m not feeling the sprayer, but her lips, kissing the place she just rinsed off. Barely there. Feather light. But enough to send jolts straight to my cock and make me harder than I thought possible. So hard, that I think I might come just from her kisses all over my body as she rinses me off. But it’s just not enough for that.

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