Chapter 28
BATHING AND OTHER DANGEROUS ACTIVITIES
NELSON
Although the bright blue sky was a welcome sight, I could have done without the intense sunlight. It ricocheted off the snow, spearing through me, as if eager to hunt me down even in the darkest shadows of the trees.
I also could have done without the heavy traffic flowing in front of me. I’d heard the snowplows out before dawn, like the pied pipers of waylaid travelers, but I hadn’t expected this many cars.
I should have had us up and out the door as soon as I heard that first plow. At least there would have been less traffic then. But Morgan had been wrapped around me, and I couldn’t make myself disturb him.
I’d been selfish and foolish.
How long would we have to wait for this traffic to die down? A day? Two? Could I survive another night with Morgan and not give in to the need to do more than hold him?
My fingers itched to slip over the skin of his stomach. My lips tingled with anticipation of another kiss. My cock…
I couldn’t think about my cock.
I jumped through the shadows away from the road. Once I was sure I was safe, I shifted into my human form. I needed the cold sinking into me, all the way to my bones. The threat of frostbite slapping my balls might remind me to keep focused on the goal.
My breath formed a misty plume in front of me as I tilted my face to the sunlight filtering through the pine boughs.
The sunlight was almost as painful as the cold.
I rolled my shoulders to ease the tightness in my muscles.
It didn’t help. I doubted anything would help until Morgan was safely ensconced in Willow Lake.
Which reminded me…
I pulled out my phone. Since I hadn't used it since leaving the hotel, my battery still showed a decent charge, but there was still no service. I hadn’t really expected any, but I’d hoped things would improve after the storm passed. But maybe that would have been too easy.
I shoved my phone back in my pocket and turned toward the cabin.
When I opened the door, I was greeted with a shout, not in greeting, but in alarm.
“Shut the door,” Morgan yelled. “You’re letting all the cold air in.”
I slammed the door shut, belatedly realizing I should have stayed outside, on the other side of the door, because Morgan was…
I gulped.
Naked. Or damn near.
His back was to me, and I couldn’t stop my gaze from sweeping over him from head to bare fucking toe. He was beautiful. Some men put on bulk as they left their teens behind, but Morgan wasn’t one of them. He was all long, thin limbs. Elegant. Delicate.
But I remembered the way he’d clung to me on the bike. His muscles weren't bulky, but he had strength.
Given how slender he was, he should have been full of sharp angles and edges, but he wasn’t.
And those subtle curves were what drew my eye from the rounded shape of his shoulder to the tight globes of his ass—his fucking ass, which was barely concealed by the thinnest, tiniest bit of teal-colored underwear I’d ever seen.
“Sorry to yell at you.” He glanced over his shoulder at me with a grin—not a seductive grin, but a happy one.
He had no fucking idea what he was doing to me.
I hadn’t realized it last night, but his face was smooth, even after going so long without a razor. Mine wasn’t. My jaw was covered in a coarse scruff that I suddenly wanted to drag across all that skin he had on display. Mark his body as mine like a possessive jerk.
“But when I washed up in the bathroom yesterday,” he continued, obviously not noticing how my eyes lingered on his body, “it was freezing. I didn’t expect you back so soon, honestly. I hope you don’t mind my doing this out here.”
I grunted. Words were beyond me.
“I heated some water. It’s cooling, so if you want to wash up too, get over here.
I mean we could heat more, but…” He shrugged and turned back to his task.
He bent forward to dip the cloth in the bucket beside his feet.
I licked my lips as my gaze trailed down the length of his spine and landed on his ass to his tight, barely there underwear. Again.
“I hate it when I can’t shower, you know?” Morgan said, his voice soft.
It reminded me of how he’d sounded the night before, right before he’d broken down and sobbed. Fuck. He couldn’t cry again. I couldn’t handle it. Not because of whatever reason Morgan thought he shouldn’t cry, but because it broke my damn heart.
“When I was in that cage, it was awful. People stank, and my skin felt grimy…” His words trailed off as he shivered. The cloth slipped from his fingers and landed on the floor with a splat. He wiped at his eyes with the back of his hand. “Sorry. I don’t know why I said any of that.”
I was moving forward before I registered what I was doing. I scooped up the cloth and handed it to him. He glanced at me, then away quickly. When his trembling hand took the wet cloth from me, his fingers brushed mine, and I wanted to feel more of him. All of him.
“Anyway…” He cleared his throat. “Yeah.”
His voice was tremulous. Fuck. That little tremor weaving through his words almost did me in as much as seeing him nearly naked. I shed my coat and my winter gear. I dropped them on the floor around our feet. I didn’t care if they got wet from the water dripping there.
“Here,” I whispered as I reached for the cloth still hanging from his fingers. “Let me help you.”
His big, beautiful, rainbow-like eyes blinked at me. They glistened with unshed tears. It killed me to see him so sad, just like last night when he’d cried in my arms. I’d felt so fucking useless.
“Let me help,” I repeated. “I can wash your back, okay?”
He blinked rapidly, then nodded.
I crouched down to soak the cloth in the inch or two of lukewarm water covering the bottom of the pot. He shouldn’t bathe in tepid water. It should be hot and plentiful, not… well, not this. “We should heat this up again.”
“I was almost finished." His cheeks pinkened as he stared at me kneeling in front of him. “But yeah, you’ll want to have fresh water, won't you?”
I found myself wishing for magic I didn’t have. If I was a fire mage, I could heat the water for him. If I was a hellhound, I could probably do that too. This was one more way I was all wrong for Morgan. He deserved all the things I could never give him.
But I could wash his back. And I was going to do it with hot water, damn it.
“Wrap up in a blanket,” I said. “I’ll stick the water on the fire again. When it’s hot, I’ll wash your back.”
“You don’t have to—”
I grabbed a blanket and wrapped it around his shoulders before guiding him to sit by the fire.
I tucked another blanket around his bare legs and feet.
Then I grabbed the bucket and a few more pots from the cupboard before going back outside for more snow.
Because while I was at it, I could at least give him clean water too, right?
The fire was still blazing from the logs I’d added this morning. I placed the snow-filled containers close to the flames, then sat back to wait for the snow to melt. Neither of us spoke while I poked and stirred the snow.
It took time, but it wasn’t like we had anything else to do.
And if Morgan wanted to bathe, he was going to have the best fucking bath I could give him.
Eventually the snow melted. I poured the various containers into the largest bucket, then I tested the temperature. Still too cold. So, we waited some more.
I watched the water and tested it with a level of care and attention I usually only reserved for creating my geocache projects.
My favorite geocache creations were multi-stage puzzles.
I combined math problems, ciphers, and, in a few instances, I’d even included musical clues.
Then there was hiding the caches themselves.
You needed to put them places where they weren’t easily seen.
That all took care and planning. And when it worked, it was brilliant.
Melting snow for Morgan really didn’t require the same level of attention. I knew that and yet…
The intensity with which I wanted to get this right was overwhelming.
“It’s ready,” I said quietly when the water was finally hot enough. I didn’t look at Morgan as he moved close to me, shedding the quilts I’d given him.
He didn’t speak as he sat with his back to me in front of the fire. The golden light of the flames flickered over his smooth, flawless skin. I stirred the cloth through the steaming water and pretended my hand wasn’t trembling.
I held my breath as I touched the cloth to Morgan’s shoulder, moving along the same rounded slope that’d intrigued me earlier. He shivered under my hand.
“Are you cold?” My question was barely audible above the crackling of the logs in the fireplace.
He shook his head.
“No. It…” He sounded breathless. “It feels nice.”
Emboldened by his words, I swept the cloth across to his other shoulder. Little rivulets of water rolled down his skin, as if tempting me to chase them with my tongue. His skin was so soft. So smooth. So unblemished.
I washed his back with deliberate care, from his slender neck to the shallow dips on his lower back. I’d heard someone call them dimples of Apollo once, but I’d never thought about them…
Until now.
Now I wanted to trace them with my fingers… followed by my lips.
I soaked the cloth again. My hand still wasn’t steady.
Morgan glanced over his shoulder at me. It made me wonder what he’d look like glancing over his shoulder at me as I took him from behind. Our gazes locked, and his face flushed a pretty pink. Was he imagining the same thing?
“Are you finished?” His voice was husky.
“No…” I whispered. “I don’t think I’ll ever be finished with you.”
He turned toward me as I reached for him.
My wet fingers slid across his skin as I cupped his neck and gently tugged him closer. Our lips met, and this time I didn’t hold back. I couldn’t. Not anymore.