Beau stalks over and scoops me up, face set in utter exasperation. He wrenches open the shower door, then dumps me inside. A moment later, the shower springs to life, dousing me in shockingly cold water from three angles.
I squeal, then gasp as the frigid water makes the air explode from my lungs. My clothes quickly soak through, and I twist, screeching, trying to get out of the water. Beau pushes me back in carelessly. It feels like actual snow is pelting my exposed skin. I push out again, only to have Beau shove me back in.
My fists clench, and I shriek in pure frustration.
“Get it out. I’ve got time,” he drawls, that panic now vanished, transformed into something that almost resembles...
“Are youlaughingat me right now?” I hiss.
It’s hard to remain dignified mid-meltdown while snot-stained, soaked to the bone in a shower, and with your nipples pebbling faster than a high-speed train. Soon I won’t need him to let me out the shower door—I’ll be able to carve my way free.
“You wretched, awful?—”
“Ah, ah.” Beau’s mouth curls up on one side. “You’re pretty disrespectful for a subbie standing in icy water. You find yourself some manners and maybe we can have a civilized conversation.”
Somehow, to my annoyance, the cold waterhasshocked the hysteria out of me.
And even more annoyingly, that dangerous glint in his eyedoeshave me rethinking my insults.
“Might you... please turn on the warm water?” I lift my chin.
My teeth are chattering.
That half-smile widens into a full one. “I might.”
But he doesn’t move.
“Please, oh mighty and generous sir,” I grit out as politely as I can—and when Beau throws his head back and laughs, I bite down on my molars.
It’s Beau’s turn to wipe the corners of his eyes. “Very cute, darlin’, but you can stick to calling me Beau. Politely.”
He turns one of the knobs under his hand, and I’m blessed with an instant cascade of heat. I close my eyes, breathing out hard in relief as the scalding warmth seeps into my chilly skin.
I feel hands tugging at the waist of my shirt, and after a moment of hesitation, I let him strip it off me, quickly followed by my bra. He’s half-stepped into the water now, and it soaks him too. I move to unbuckle my belt, but he gently removes my hands.
“Let me,” he says softly. “Let me take over now, darlin’.”
Those pretty woodland eyes meet mine, and I whisper, “Yes, Beau.”
His jaw clenches, and my head drops back against the wall as I watch him strip me of my belt, my shoes, my socks, my pants. Finally, he reaches for my underwear and hesitates, his eyes flicking over my face. When I don’t stop him, he pulls them down gently, and I feel his breath against my thighs.
It’s instinct, all nature, for me to part them while he’s on one knee before me, and I hold my breath. His gaze lingers on my parted legs, the cleft in between, and a different kind of heat ripples through me.
When he stands, my breath leaves me in a disappointed rush.
Beau throws the sodden clothes into the bathroom, then unwinds the bandages from around my wrists. His jaw flexes at the rent flesh, though it’s now well on its way to healing, but he doesn’t say a word.
He wraps his large hand around the back of my neck, pulling me off the wall. Then his hands are in my hair, plucking it free of its tie until it tumbles around my shoulders.
I shiver under the water, his touch, and he pinches my chin. His eyes don’t dip down once.
“Now, I want you to stay in here for as long as you need to,” he tells me. “I don’t want you worrying about what anyone else is doing in this house. You have no jobs to do and nowhere else to be. Just enjoy the shower. Use every product that makes you feel good. Pamper yourself.”
He raises a stern brow, and my thighs press together at the sight of it. I think stern Beau might be a problem for me. But it’s the tenderness in his eyes that makes my heart soften all over again.
“If taking care of yourself involves crying, then you do that too.” His thumb runs along my jaw. “There’s no shame in tears, pet—you don’t need to earn them and there’s no limit on how many you’re allowed to cry. It so happens that I like a good cry myself. You put on a sappy movie, and I will wreck an entire box of tissues.”
At my faint smile, he chucks me under the chin. “And if you’d rather cuddle up and cry on me, then my shoulders are good for it too. You come out when you’re ready, and I’ll be waiting.”