18. 18
Kenny and Marcus were waiting for us on the tarmac when we landed.
I wasn’t thrilled that Kenny was part of our escort party, but judging by Elias’s relationship with them, it was clear that this was business as usual.
The President exited the plane before us, garnering the attention of the small crowd that had formed.
We were able to sneak out through the service hatch and get quickly into the car.
They brought along the wheelchair even though I said they could leave it behind.
Beyond pleasantries and some small talk initiated by Kenny, the drive was quiet, and after ten minutes he turned up the volume of the radio. In the backseat, I slumped against Elias until we passed through the security gate to our neighborhood.
“I need to mow the grass,” Elias said to himself. It had been two weeks since he’d cut the lawn, and it was overgrown in comparison to our less busy neighbors. I didn’t care how the yard looked, but Elias liked to keep busy, and mowing the lawn was just another objective for him to complete.
He helped me inside, acting as a crutch, while Kenny and Marcus carried our bags into the garage to set them at the door there. I wanted to be on my feet, even if I couldn’t use them. Elias was doing all the work, and I mustered up a hop here and there.
“It can wait. Maybe tomorrow.”
“Definitely. I need to scrub Russia from my skin.”
Elias had showered at the NATO base, and I’d been cleaned at some point in the process, but the lingering scent of travel, sweat, and general despair hung on our clothes.
Waving goodbye to Kenny and Marcus, Elias led me through the door and set me on the built-in bench in the mudroom.
He carried our suitcases in, emptying as much as he could into the washing machine.
It was his ritual. Anything that entered the house had to be cleaned before it found its way to our closets.
The process was typically much faster since it was normally only him.
“Strip,” he ordered.
In any other circumstance, it might have been sexual, but this was an order from the Special Agent, and more specifically, the owner of this house.
My shirt was easy enough to remove on my own.
It was straightforward, right over my head, but my pants proved to be much more of a challenge, hindered by the hole in my thigh.
Trying to shimmy my pants down, I found that I couldn’t lift myself up enough to get them off. “You’re going to have to help.”
Elias lifted me like a baby doll, his hands under my arms, and I was able to shrug my pants halfway down my thighs before he sat me back down. While I was seated, he pulled them off, and I couldn’t help the sharp intake of breath as the fabric grazed my wound.
On one knee, he leaned down to place a gentle kiss on my thigh. “I’m sorry.”
“You know it’s not your fault.”
He didn’t speak, wouldn’t acknowledge that he was without blame, but he didn’t fight me on it either. Instead, he stood. I held my arms out and he pulled me up until I was on my feet next to him. Holding back a grumble and a few expletives, I leaned against him as he guided me to the bathroom.
“I’m surprised you’re not carrying me.” He dropped me off against the counter while he prepared the shower for us, the tile cool against the skin of my hip.
Elias kept a teak bench seat in the shower, and he’d used it for years after missions when he couldn’t quite stand on his own. He pulled it from the wall, placing it in the middle where both the overhead and side showerheads could reach.
“All you have to do is ask.” The corner of his mouth ticked up, but the smile didn’t reach the rest of his face. If I knew him, and I did, then he’d be torturing himself over my injury for a while.
A part of me wondered if he liked to brood, if that was just more comfortable for him. Without me around, I imagined his ideal day was to listen to sad music and pout. He was all smiles until he was alone, so I left him alone as little as possible.
The water ran, warming up the room, and Elias helped me settle onto the bench after we had both finished undressing, facing me away from the stream to keep my leg dry.
The water pressure was a godsend, and I hadn’t realized what I’d been missing.
Closing my eyes, I breathed deeply, and the tension in my shoulders dissipated.
Just the smell of our house had put me at ease.
Elias held out a washcloth to me, and I happily took it from his hands.
I scrubbed myself clean as he washed his hair.
He faced away from me, his beautiful body on display.
How could I properly appreciate the work of art that was Elias?
He crafted himself with care, each line and muscle serving a purpose.
I saw him naked every day. I slept curled into his nude body, but I wasn’t desensitized to it.
He was magnificent, and he was mine. Alive and breathing and mine.
He helped me wash my hair. Not because I needed it, but because he wanted to. He scrubbed at my scalp, kissing my cheek as he did so. After rinsing the conditioner from my hair, he lingered, his hand trailing from my shoulder to my elbow.
“I want you,” he said, his lips at my ear. He paused, waiting for my reaction.
“Even with the hole in my leg?”
“I find the fact that you’re alive very sexy.” A kiss to my neck. “We don’t have to.”
I was tired, exhausted really. We hadn’t eaten and I was jet-lagged. But the warm water on my back, Elias’s hand resting on mine, the heart beating in my chest, it was enough. It never took much. Not with him.
“Promise to feed me after.”
“I’ll order pizza. No reindeer.”
A smile played on my lips. “No reindeer.”
Elias adjusted the shower head, angling it away from us so we wouldn’t drown. He knelt at my feet, my own knees pressed together. Hands placed gently atop my thighs, he looked up at me, asking permission silently before pulling them apart.
“I’m in love with you, Cassie.”
My heart beat out of my chest. My breath got trapped in my throat and I couldn’t force it into my lungs. Nothing else needed to make sense for this to be true. If he loved me, I would make it through everything else.
“Te quiero. . . let me.”
I couldn’t swallow away the lump in my throat, couldn’t find my voice to speak. I could only nod down at him. It was for me, everything he did was for me.
He laid his head down on my thigh and reached out to touch me.
My breasts, my stomach, between my legs, warm fingers found freckles and lines and caressed them.
Planting a kiss on my thigh, he pushed my leg up and out of the way, my heel finding a place on the bench. I was as exposed as I could be for him.
His mouth moved to the center of me, placing a kiss there before his tongue darted out to taste. I took a deep breath, my lungs finally in agreement with my mind, my needs. One of my hands reached behind me so I could lean back. Not far, but enough.
Reveling in the feeling, I let my mind go. No work, no pain, just Elias and I.
Glancing down, I saw that his eyes were closed. He was focused on me, on my body, on the way he licked and sucked and nipped at the most sensitive parts of me. I whimpered, tilting my head back, but not before catching a glimpse of his eyes flitting up to mine.
He liked to watch me almost as much as he liked to be buried between my thighs.
A finger joined in, trailing down before he slipped it inside. His movements were disciplined. After months of this, months of us teaching each other what we needed, he knew exactly how my body reacted to him, and what to do to make me entirely his.
His mouth moved deliberately, paying special attention to where I needed him to, inching me toward my release. My breath had become ragged, shorter, and if I could have found the words I would have been begging him to finish me off.
Elias flinched, pausing. I looked down at him quizzically.
“The hot water is gone.” A sheepish smile formed, mouth glossy. He licked his lips as he looked up at me, but made no indication he was going to move, waiting for me to tell him what I wanted.
“You can carry me,” I said. I wasn’t in the best position to walk to begin with, and at that point I didn’t have control of my legs.
Standing up, he walked through the chilly stream and shut it off before returning to where I sat. His erection was visible now, and I resisted the urge to touch myself as I thought of where I’d find it soon.
Picking me up like I was his bride, he crossed the threshold of the shower with me in his arms and laid me on the bathroom counter, my hips at the edge of the tile. It was cool on my back, and I hissed as I made contact with it. Elias was busy pushing my cosmetics and lotions out of the way.
“This is why,” he said, trailing kisses down my abdomen. “I ask you to keep the counter cleared off.” He dove back into me, wasting no time. Mouth and hands moved much faster now, in a rush to get me back to where I was.
He leaned into me, my knees over his shoulders, my legs on his back.
I needed to keep my leg elevated anyway. The pain was an afterthought, it didn’t bother me.
One of my hands reached down to hold his wet hair out of his face. He hummed, elated to be in his favorite place.
A hand settled on my stomach, ready to hold me in place like he knew I was about to come before I knew myself.
He was right.
My body fought against him, against the hand on my stomach. My legs tightened around him, forcing him closer to me. Bliss permeated my bones, my soul. The hand in his hair gripped tighter, holding me to the Earth.
Working me through my orgasm, he didn’t relent until I tapped his head a few times.
“I was enjoying myself,” he said, grinning. He wiped his mouth on the inside of my leg, leaving a kiss there. “Until you tried ripping my hair out, at least. But, I’m not done.”
“I feel pretty good right now, I could be done.”
He nodded toward the mirror next to us. “Look at us. Look how good we look together.”