Rescuing Melissa (ALPHA TEAM: Guardian Hostage Rescue Specialists)

22. His Shower

TWENTY-TWO

His Shower

CJ

CJ breathed in Melissa’s light scent, lilac, and rose. She reminded him of the breaking rays of dawn, full of promise with the coming of the day. He clutched her tight as if holding her could protect her from the evil permeating her life. If she could find shelter in his arms, then maybe some of the horrors visited upon her could be pushed aside if only for this moment.

How one man could destroy the lives of so many infuriated him. In his line of work, it was easy to believe the war of good against evil would never be won, and the devil ruled the earth.

Whenever he felt this sense of futility, he turned to the victims. Strong and resilient, he admired how they picked up the ruin of their lives and carried on. They reminded him to be strong and to continue the fight.

Scott Patterson destroyed Melissa’s life as surely as he stole the lives of his victims. Despite that, or in spite of it, Melissa pieced her life back together, much like CJ continued with his, moving with the pace of each day until a week turned into a month and months became years.

Evil touched too much of his life, taking first his innocence, then his mother, and finally, his sister. Yet, he still believed he could change the world. Holding Melissa had him wishing he could do more. Be more.

What had it been like living with a serial killer, loving him, only to experience the ultimate in betrayal?

A man who fixed things, he vowed to solve her problem. Until then, he would provide comfort and support.

“Go take a shower,” CJ said. “You’ll feel better. Or soak in the tub.”

“I don’t want to.”

“I know, but there’s nothing either of us can do right now.” He lifted her chin and forced her to look at him. “The cops are looking for him. The Feds will be here soon. There’s nothing to do except get some rest.”

“I think I’ll just go to bed.”

He placed his hands on her arms and lifted her away from his chest, just far enough to gaze into her eyes. “Trust me. A shower will make you feel ten times better.”

“I’m so tired.”

He gave an easy laugh. “I don’t doubt it. I’m surprised you’re doing as well as you are.” With a tiny shove, he got her moving. “Take a nice long soak. I’ll be in the living room. If you don’t mind, keep the door cracked. That way, if you need anything, I’ll be able to hear.”

She made her way to the bathroom, turning to call out to him as he headed to the other room. “In case I forget, thanks.”

He settled onto the couch, shifting as he tried to find a comfortable position. It proved difficult, because Melissa was in the other room, stripping for her shower. His pants tightened as he remembered undressing her in that garage.

The swell of her breasts behind the lace of her bra fascinated him, and the flare of her hips begged for his hands to encircle her tiny waist. Those hips were built for a man’s hands, designed for traction and to withstand his dominating need. Her breasts were the perfect size, neither too small nor too large. Pillowy soft, they promised comfort and pleasure. He leaned his head back with a sigh and adjusted his growing erection behind the zipper of his jeans.

Soft sobs drifted to his ears.

He jolted to his feet, ready to go to her, but forced his protective urges to the background. Crying was natural and expected after the events of the day. He left her to her grief, giving as much privacy as he could. A moment later, athudsounded from the bathroom. The timbre of her cries turned frantic. This time, he didn’t hesitate.

He found her sprawled on the floor. Steam filled the room, and he had difficulty making out what he saw. She lay in an awkward pile, legs bent, and her arm trapped beneath her naked body. Her long hair covered her face and draped her breasts and shoulders. Heavy bruising covered her body.

Why hadn’t she said anything? Shades of red, purple, blue, yellow, and green covered her from her collar bone to her hip. The bruising wrapped around to her back and extended down her buttocks.

“What happened?” An unnecessary comment, but he couldn’t think of anything else to say.

Her words were unintelligible. She gestured to her back, but he didn’t understand what she was trying to say. He opened the shower door and knelt by her side. The water drenched his clothes.

She was trying to push herself up. Without a thought, he sat beside her, collected her in his arms, and rocked her against his chest.

She curled into him.

After a time, her sobbing stilled.

“I couldn’t reach the soap, and then I fell. I couldn’t get off the floor. It hurts so much.” Her body shook with her frustrated cries. “I can’t even take a shower by myself.”

“Shh, it’s going to be all right.” Poor thing was overwhelmed. Hell, he was overwhelmed. Was he really cradling a naked woman in a shower? What the hell was he thinking?

He knew what he needed to do and hoped she understood his intentions were honorable. He set her on the floor, taking great pains to place her with care. The mass of bruising on her body had him concerned. He moved the wet hair out of her face.

“Do you trust me?”

She wrapped her arms around her chest, shielding her breasts from his view, and pulled her knees up to hide everything else. Slowly, she nodded.

He pulled her to her feet, being careful not to cause her too much pain.

“I couldn’t get my arm to reach—”

He placed a finger over her lips. “You trusted me once before. Trust me now.”

She took in a shuddering breath, and her mouth parted.

He placed his finger under her chin. “I’ll be a perfect gentleman. I’ll help you soap up, wash your hair, and rinse you off…”

“You won’t touch me?”

A smirk lifted the corner of his lips. “I’ll have to touch to get you clean. Just think of it as a sponge bath, but in a shower instead.”

His gaze cut to the jeans plastered against his legs. “I need to get out of my jeans, but I’ll keep my boxers on.”

Her eyes widened. “You’re taking your clothes off?”

“Not everything. But it’ll make less mess to clean up later if I strip out of my shirt and jeans. Unlike you, I don’t have a change of clothes.”

“You must think I’m a wreck.”

“I think you need someone to help you. That’s not the same as being a wreck.”

“Have you ever washed a woman’s hair before?” She kept her arms crossed over her chest, but she did a poor job of hiding her breasts. A pink nipple peeked out between the crossing of her arms.

It took everything for him to keep his eyes focused on her face.

“It’s not like running a bar of soap over your head,” she said.

He was happy to see some of her spunkiness return. “Hair washing is one of my many skills. When I’m done with you, you’ll feel like a new woman.”

She bit her lower lip.

“Ah, shit, I didn’t mean it like that.”

Her gaze darted to the ground. He couldn’t help but take another peek at her creamy skin.

“You won’t do anything funny?”

“Scout’s honor.”

“You were a Boy Scout?” The look on her face told him she didn’t believe him.

“You’re looking at an honest to goodness Eagle Scout. Your safety is assured in my hands.” He gave her a four-finger salute.

She readjusted her arms, covering the flash of nipple he’d been staring at.

“I’m not promising perfection, but I promise I’ll take care of you.” With great reluctance, he brought his gaze back to her eyes.

“Thanks.” She shifted her eyes down, looking even more vulnerable.

He wanted to wrap her in his arms and take her pain away.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were hurt so badly? If I’d known, I would’ve taken you back to the hospital.”

“I couldn’t stand staying in that hospital a day longer. Besides, as long as I don’t bend, twist, or move, I’m good.” The threat of tears wavered in her voice.

He headed them off by placing his hands on her bare hips and his chin on the sweep of her shoulder. He loved touching her, and the smoothness of her skin reminded him of velvet. The heat of her body made his body answer with a burn of its own.

With a whisper, he tried to soothe her. “Well, let’s just get through this shower.” As awkward as that may be.

“You said you’d be a gentleman.”

“And I intend to honor my word.” Not an easy task. He struggled not to stare at the swell of her breasts. “I’m going to take my clothes off now. Do you think you can stand, or are you at risk for falling again?”

“Standing isn’t the problem. It’s moving that hurts.”

Divesting himself of the wet jeans proved more difficult than expected, but he hopped and tugged until he shimmied out of them. He stripped out of his shirt, leaving only his boxers in place. There was nothing he could do about the erection tenting his pants.

She leaned her forehead against the wall, one hand splayed against the tiles, not even looking at him. Her other arm was wrapped around her waist. The rounded globes of her ass had him drawing a sharp breath. His cock twitched at the sight of her nakedness, hungry, needful, and wholly inappropriate.

So fragile.

With only his boxers to cover him, he stepped behind her and placed a hand on her shoulder, needing to touch her, not overwhelm her. He could only imagine the vulnerability she must be feeling.

And the trust she extended him? CJ’s heart hammered beneath his breastbone, and he reined in the raging tide of lust surging through his veins.

As awkward as she was when she moved, she relaxed into his touch. That gave him hope.

A shudder passed through her body.

He didn’t know how he would make it through this shower. He’d be embarrassed if he broke his word, but he was determined to help Melissa. If he could keep his mind on why he was here, and not on what he wanted to do, he’d make it through. But images of pushing her against the wall and burying himself balls deep kept flashing through his head. He needed to stop that line of thought before he burst.

He needed to focus.

She sighed. “I hate feeling like this.”

“Try not to think about it. Here, hold my hand.”

Here he was again, stuck in hero-land, worse than the friend-zone as far as he was concerned. At least when he was in the friend-zone, he knew where he stood. In hero-land, he never knew what to expect.