Chapter 7
Blaze
I know she’s struggling. It’s understandable.
I won’t pressure her. There’s no need. Stroking the back of her head, I realize something.
“You need far better hair products than I have here. I’m going to call Dallas’s wife, Arianna, and see if I can borrow her shampoo and stuff. She has curls like yours.”
Vicky smiles. “Thank you. It’s going to be a pain dealing with it. I doubt I can hold my arms up long enough to comb through the tangles.”
“Well, you won’t have to. I’ll do it, baby.” He rises. “Will you be okay if I leave you for a few minutes?”
“Yes.”
I hate stepping away from her. Partly because I don’t want her to fall asleep and slip under the water, but also because I want to be near her. I feel that pull more by the minute. Now that she’s naked in my bathtub, I sense the connection growing between us more than ever.
I bend to kiss the top of her head. “Don’t move.”
“I won’t.”
I jog from the room, already pulling my phone out.
Arianna is the town librarian, so I’m sure she’s at the library now. She answers on the first ring, though. “Hey, Blaze. I heard you rescued a woman this morning. Are you married yet?”
I chuckle. I’m not even remotely incensed by the ribbing I’m going to get from everyone. Let them joke. “Ha-ha. I need a favor. Vicky’s hair is similar to yours. Can I borrow your shampoo and conditioner?”
“Of course. Also, grab the basket on the left side of the vanity. It has a bunch of curly girl products she might need.”
“Thank you.”
“Anytime.”
I end the call and knock on Dallas and Arianna’s door. There’s no answer. I didn’t expect there would be. Dallas is probably working downstairs in his office.
It only takes me a minute to grab all the girly products from the bathtub and the counter. I’m back in my bathroom in record time.
The moment I return, relief consumes me. It’s an odd mixture of seeing that she’s fine and confirming I didn’t imagine her into existence. She’s really here, in my tub.
She’s sitting upright and using a bar of soap to wash her right foot. She’s a fucking vision. I’m frozen for a few seconds, taking her in as if I haven’t seen her for days.
I don’t want to be an asshole ogling her, but damn, she is gorgeous, ignoring the bruises and scrapes from her fall, of course. I never really imagined myself with someone so petite, but when Cupid shot his arrow, she was the one I was looking at.
Her breasts are above the water, high and tight, small with tiny nipples.
I can’t help thinking they won’t always be like this.
Not that I mind. I don’t care how big they are.
I’m going to worship them at every stage of her life—when she’s ready.
They will, however, be full and heavy after she gives birth to our first child.
The rest of her will change, too. I’m already picturing her stomach round and protruding.
Shaking the visuals from my head, I hold up the items in my hands. “Arianna has a lot of curly hair products. She said you would know what you need.”
“That’s so sweet of her. Thank you. I have everything in my car, too, but it would be hard for you to locate it all without digging around. I won’t subject you to that.”
“I’ll unload your car later, baby. Don’t worry. But for now, this is faster.”
She waves a dismissive hand through the air. “My car is a disaster zone. I’ll deal with it after I rest for a while.”
I drop a folded towel on the floor near her head and kneel on it.
“You’re not going downstairs for a few days.
Whatever you need, I’ll get it.” I know I’m being bossy, but suddenly that’s who I am.
Hiding this awakening side of me won’t do us any favors.
Besides, my girl trembles every time I get firm with her.
Her eyes are wide now, and she licks her lips, saying nothing.
Holding the shampoo, I say, “Tip your head back to get your hair wet. I’ll wash it.”
She surprises me when she slides all the way under and pops back up. She’s grinning now. “You’re spoiling me. Be careful, or I’ll decide to stay here just because I feel like a princess.”
I smirk as I pour shampoo on my palm. “That’s my evil plan. To spoil you every hour of the day so that you will never want to leave. I’ll wash your hair for the rest of your life if it makes you smile like this.”
Her cheeks flush adorably, and she bites her bottom lip again.
I reach forward and unplug the stopper. “We’ll let the water run out while I wash your hair. It’s brown from your romp in the dirt,” I tease.
She watches me with big eyes.
“Hold the sides of the tub and close your eyes, baby.”
Fuck me.
She’s so obedient. I wonder if this is new to her or if she’s been in relationships with other dominant men. Based on her repeated wide eyes and pink cheeks, I’d say she’s surprised by her responses to me.
I love running my fingers through her hair, especially because her face softens. Her lips part, and she purrs while I massage her scalp. I wasn’t kidding when I said I would do this every day of her life.
As the water drains, I can’t help but look at her body. She is small. I’ve never dated anyone as petite as her. But I’m more attracted to her than any woman I’ve ever met. I can’t wait for the day when she straddles my hips and rides me, her small breasts bouncing as I pinch her nipples.
When I finish with the shampoo, I reach over, turn the water back on, and put the stopper in the bottom of the tub. I’m holding her up with my hand cupping the back of her head, and she’s trembling.
“I’m sorry, baby. I bet you’re chilled.”
She keeps her eyes closed. “A little.”
Luckily, the water rises quickly, and I gently lower her to rinse off her hair.
Smiling, she slides under the water and runs her hands through her hair. “That felt so good. Thank you.”
When I help her sit back up, she looks at me, those brown eyes round and wide. There’s an odd look of innocence in them as if she’s never been this vulnerable with a man. Perhaps I’m projecting, but my cock is all kinds of hard from the thought.
I grab the conditioner next, needing to distract myself.
She grips the sides of the tub again. My girl is exhausted. She’s struggling to sit upright, so I don’t waste any time covering her hair in conditioner and rinsing it.
“Let’s get you out of there, baby.” My voice is husky. I can’t help it. I’m overwhelmed by her presence. She came out of nowhere, and she’s in my bathroom. Naked. Precious. Letting me take care of her.
I let the water drain again while I wrap a towel around her hair and twist it on top. Next, I tuck a towel under her and scoop her into my arms.
“You’re spoiling me,” she whispers against my neck as I bundle the towel around her and turn toward the bedroom.
After gently depositing her on the bed, I pat her body dry. The towel is huge and fluffy around her. It’s white, and she looks like an angel in the middle of the terrycloth.
“Don’t move,” I instruct before rushing across the room to pull one of my white T-shirts out of a drawer. When I return, she’s cringing. “What’s wrong?”
She tips her head back. “I can’t believe you use that dresser or this bed. It feels like I’m sitting on a family heirloom.”
I chuckle. “Maybe you are, but I don’t care.” I shake out the T-shirt. “Arms up.”
She obeys me again, and I stretch the neckline to get the shirt around the towel before lowering it over her body. It’s huge on her, and I was enjoying her naked, but I suspect she would balk if I suggested she eat in the buff.
There’s a knock at the door. Good timing.
Vicky gasps as she tries to tuck the shirt under her bottom. It’s hard without leverage, so I reach under her arms and lift her a few inches so she can adjust the shirt and remove the damp towel.
“Come in,” I call out.
I’m not surprised to find Claire entering with a steaming tray of food. She grins. “Hey. Gretchen sent me up with some food. You must be Vicky. I’m Claire.”
Part of me wishes Claire would just leave the food and exit the room, but that’s selfish of me. I want Vicky to know all the women living here. She’ll probably feel more comfortable once she gets acquainted with them. Might as well start with Claire.
“Nice to meet you,” Vicky says softly.
Claire hands me the tray, which has legs on both sides so it can extend over Vicky’s lap. Gretchen thinks of everything.
I carefully settle it over Vicky’s thighs.
“My God. That smells amazing.” Her little moan does nothing to keep my cock under control. None of her noises do.
Turning toward Claire, I point to the end of the bed. “You might as well sit. I’m sure you’ve been sent to collect data for the Wilde tribe.”
Claire rolls her eyes as she climbs up, across from Vicky. “Don’t listen to him. No one sent me. I’m just being polite. Welcome to the mansion.”
“Thank you,” Vicky murmurs. Her cheeks are pink with embarrassment. I hate that she’s uncomfortable, but it’s understandable. She doesn’t know this woman who barged in.
I hurry toward the bathroom to grab a comb. When I return, I give Claire a pointed look. “You may not grill Vicky. She’s exhausted. All you need to know for now is that she was hiking, fell down a ravine, and Reagan and I found her this morning.”
Claire winces as she looks at Vicky’s leg. “Kinsley sewed you up?”
“Yes. She was very nice,” Vicky says.
I carefully sit behind her and unwrap the towel from her head so I can comb through her hair. “Eat, baby. I’ll be gentle with these tangles.” I start working from the ends, trying not to tug too hard.
Vicky moans again as she takes the first bite of soup. “That’s delicious.”
Claire beams. “Gretchen is an amazing cook. She’s been working here for years, but very few people were living here until after Old Man Wilde died and we started showing up. She’s beyond pleased for the house to be coming back to life.”
Claire pats her stomach. “Soon, there are going to be a lot more souls in the house.”
Vicky lowers her gaze to Claire’s stomach. “Oh, you’re pregnant, too?” She twists to look at me. “I thought you said Reagan was pregnant?”
Claire laughs. “Every woman in this house is pregnant. Didn’t Blaze tell you?” She shoots me a narrow-eyed glare.
I roll my eyes as I move to another section of my girl’s thick hair. “We’ve been kind of busy dealing with Vicky’s health since I met her. I haven’t gotten to that fact yet.”
“Wait…” Vicky sits taller. “Didn’t all of you arrive in the last few months? How can everyone be pregnant?”
Claire shrugs. “It’s like this mansion has fertility powers or something.”
Vicky twists to look at me. “You said the mansion makes people feel desperate. I assume you meant it was like an aphrodisiac. You didn’t say anything about fertility!”
I chuckle at her sudden burst of energy. “Desperation to have sex often leads to pregnancy.”
Vicky groans. “I should have stayed at the bed and breakfast,” she grumbles.
Claire slides off the side of my bed. Our bed now. “I’ll leave you to eat and get some rest.”
“Did you collect enough data?” I shout as Claire heads for the door.
She giggles as she shuts it.
Vicky looks up at me again. “You people are making me nervous. I’m starting to think I died in that ravine and now I’ve entered another dimension and I’m unaware of my death.”
I point to her tray. “Dead people don’t eat. Finish your soup.”
“So bossy…”
“Yep.”
She takes another bite before lifting one hand to point at her head. “Don’t stop. That feels good.”
“Now who’s bossy?”