Chapter 10
After Callie left, Daisy searched Liam’s back porch for a washtub.
Her dress was beyond dirty, and she knew Clay’s clothing was too.
She’d spotted the tub, and stilled. Hanging there in the corner beside of it was a real bathtub.
The tub was large enough to sink into, and if she wanted to look and smell her best for Clay, she needed to have a proper bath.
It took her longer than it should have to get it down from the hooks holding it up, nearly dropping it on her head in the process.
Not only was it heavy, but it was long, and she’d had to drag it into the house.
Once she had it sitting near the fireplace, she started filling buckets of water to heat on the stove.
Liam was staring at the door when she peeked into his room. “What’s all that noise about?” he asked.
She entered and said, “I found a bathtub on the back porch. I thought I’d have a bath, but it was heavier than it looked, so I had to drag it in.”
He nodded. “It is heavier than it looks.”
She glanced around the room and found a pile of clothing in one corner. “I’m going to do some laundry. Would you like me to wash your things as well?”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“I know, but it’s the least I can do to pay you back. You didn’t have to let us stay here.”
His shoulders shook as he laughed. “Well, I think I’m getting the better end of that deal. Home-cooked meals by a pretty girl. Who can say no to that?”
She grinned and went to gather his clothes.
Before she left his room, he told her where to find the string he used in the winter to hang his clothes and where to hang it.
The next hour was spent washing clothes, wringing them out, and hanging them on the line she’d draped across the far end of the living room.
She’d borrowed two sets of clothing from Liam, so she and Clay would have something clean to wear while their own clothes were drying, then set about filling her bathtub with hot water.
With Clay doing an odd job for the stagecoach station owner, she had more than enough time to bathe and get dressed before he came back. She glanced around the room, biting her lip while contemplating. Could she really strip naked in the kitchen where anyone walking in could see her?
A ten-minute silent war with her thoughts gave her the answer.
Liam wasn’t able to walk in on her, and Clay would be gone for a while yet.
Pulling the curtains closed so no one could see inside the house, she stripped off her clothes, threw everything into the wash tub, submerging it in the soapy water to soak before hurrying to the bathing tub.
The water was still warm when she sank into it. She sighed, her eyes closing at the blissful sensation. How long had it been since she’d had a proper bath? The day you left Silver Falls to head to Elkin.
She and Clay both washed daily with no more than a bowl of hot water and soap, each of them giving the other privacy to do so, but this was different. A standing bath was nothing compared to this. This was heaven.
She leaned back against the tub, draping her arms over the side, and lay there for a long while, just soaking.
Her thoughts drifted to the conversation she’d had with Callie, and she smiled.
Her bold friend was so different from anyone she’d ever met, and her ideas on how a person should live were—refreshing, if not scandalous.
But scandals only happened when one got caught, according to Callie, and what someone did in the privacy of their home was no one's business.
Sitting up, she grabbed the pitcher she’d brought with her and filled it, wetting her hair, then soaped it, piling it all on her head as she lathered a washcloth and scrubbed her body. She rinsed, then repeated it, once again piling her soapy hair onto the top of her head.
Her thoughts were still on Clay as she washed her body again.
Just thinking of him made her breasts sensitive to the touch, and running the cloth between her thighs had her imagining it was his hand instead of her own.
She pushed the thoughts aside. They did nothing but make her ache for things she wasn’t even sure she should be thinking about.
Callie said it was normal to want intimacy and that there was nothing wrong with it.
She bit her lip as their conversation came back to mind.
When her new friend had left, her mind's eye had filled with images of her and Clay.
Images of them doing all the things Callie had alluded to.
Even now, her body tingled with thoughts of him touching her.
Of him kissing her in places no man had ever seen.
She sat there daydreaming so long, the soap in her hair dripped into her eyes.
The sting was immediate, and she splashed water over her face to clear the suds away.
Blindly reaching for the pitcher to rinse with, she froze when a blast of cold air hit her back.
She whipped around, her neck popping as she looked behind her so fast, and froze when she saw Clay.
He was standing at the door staring at her. What was he doing back so early?
Her heart raced when he shut the door, cutting off the frigid air filling the room.
Their gazes met when he removed his hat and coat, the look in his eyes making something low in her stomach clench.
Her eyes ran the length of him, stopping just below his belt.
The longer she stared, the tighter the material seemed to stretch across his flesh, a growing bulge letting her know he wasn’t unaffected by seeing her.
She turned around, staring into the fire, the flames dancing as the cold draft still stirred the air in the room.
Raising her arm, she covered her exposed breasts before bringing her knees up to her chest. “I didn’t think you’d be home so soon.
” Hearing a reply was impossible. She chanced a look over her shoulder.
He had a book in his hand and set it down before crossing the room to the tub.
Her heart rate increased as he neared her. The rational part of her brain told her she should make him leave. But the other, the part that Callie had whispered to all day, kept her lips sealed.
Turning away, she stared at the fire again, closing her eyes as she tried to talk herself into—what—she didn’t even know.
There wasn’t time to think of it further, as a light touch to her shoulder brought her eyes open.
Clay lifted the pitcher from the floor and dipped it into the water, filling it before tilting her head back and pouring it over her soapy hair.
He dipped the pitcher again, his fingers gliding through her hair as he poured water over it to rinse the suds away.
You need to stop him. The rational part of her brain screamed inside her head that this wasn’t proper, but as the water ran over her hair again, she closed her eyes.
Clay continued to rinse her hair, his fingers dragging through the long strands.
The water ran over her shoulders, and even though her breasts were mostly covered, she wondered what he could see of her.
Her heart raced, more so when he leaned forward and kissed her shoulder, then the side of her neck.
His warm breath against her skin made her shiver.
She stilled when he sucked her earlobe into his mouth, feeling the pull clean to her toes, her breath catching as he peppered hot kisses on her skin, tingles traveling from the spot he was kissing straight to her breasts before going lower.
No wonder Callie was such a naughty girl.
If nothing more than a few kisses on her neck felt this wonderful, what would the rest feel like?
But that wasn’t the question whispering through her mind as he peppered kisses across her neck. No, that voice in the back of her head whispered, was she bold enough to find out? And what would he do if she did?
He should stop, but her soft moans made it impossible.
Entering the house to see her in the tub had left Clay frozen in place with the door open long enough for her to notice the temperature change.
She hadn’t yelled at him for walking in on her.
Instead, the shock on her face had changed as her eyes lowered.
His cock took notice, and all rational thought fled as all the blood in his head started traveling south.
He could see the tops of her breasts, the mounds plump from where she was trying to hide them, and he’d never wanted to touch someone as badly as he did her.
When he’d taken the pitcher from the floor and squatted behind her, his thoughts hadn’t strayed past rinsing her hair, but his gaze had been riveted to the flow of water over her breasts, and lowering his head to kiss her neck had given him an even better view.
Now those kisses felt insignificant. Her neck was a poor substitute for where he wanted his lips to be.
He wanted to feel her nipples against his tongue, bury his head between her legs, and feast.
If her sisters could see them now, they’d have Ewan chase him off with that sword he liked to carry around, and even then, he wasn’t sure he’d run. He was too far gone, his cock aching to the point of pain.
His eyes closed, blocking out the sight of her. He had to stop this. She hadn’t told him to, but she hadn’t given him permission to take such liberties either.
He placed one last kiss on her neck before pulling away and standing.
He should leave. Go visit Liam so she could finish bathing, but before he had time to do it, she suddenly stood.
Water sluiced down her back and ran over her heart-shaped bottom.
He groaned at the sight of it. It was perfect, the small dimples just above her cheeks drawing his attention.
“Can you get me the drying cloth?”