Chapter 7 #3
Thanks to the overhead feature, I didn’t need to wait long before her hair was soaked. I poured three times the amount of shampoo into my hand that I normally would have.
“What are you doing?” she asked when I started lathering up her curls.
“If you have to ask, perhaps I’m doing it wrong,” was my humored response.
She stared up at me as my fingers massaged through her locks to her scalp. “Is this… I mean, I thought we were going to…”
“We are,” I assured her. My raging cock between us like a fucking beacon of what was to come.
“But there’s more to sex than penetration, and something tells me you haven’t had a lot of pampering in your life.
So let me take care of you. Let me show you the intimacy you’ve been missing in your life. ”
Her cheeks heated, but that could have also been the warmth of the shower. “I don’t… Am I supposed to wash you?” Her eyes traveled alllll the way up to the top of my head.
I shrugged. “Do you want to?”
She bit the inside of her lip before she nodded. “Please.”
Fucking hell, that word. “Let me take care of you first, and then you can do whatever you want to me.”
Once done with her hair, I grabbed up a washcloth from the stack on the in-shower rack that was protected from the spray by a plexiglass door. Like the shampoo, the body wash was a generic men’s brand, but it was better than nothing.
I took my time, leaving no part of her unwashed.
I noticed the tattoo at the base of her spine, but while I might pick up on a Japanese phrase here or there now, I certainly couldn’t read it.
I loved tattoos, and seeing one on her was extremely arousing.
I pressed a kiss over it before moving on.
Her eyes widened when I went down to my knees before her to wash her legs as she balanced herself on my shoulders.
I barely noticed, nor did I care about, the patch of hair at the apex of her thighs.
Based on her legs and underarms, she’d recently shaved those, though I would have done it if she wanted me to.
By the time I was done, I doubted there was a piece of sand or a grain of salt left on my body, but I still had every desire to be washed by her.
“Can I ask you a question?”
I was back on my knees, just barely holding back an orgasm as she massaged my scalp with the shampoo. “Of course.”
“You’ve been…aroused for some time.”
I snorted. I had no idea how long it had been since she came down to the ocean. I also offhandedly realized that I’d left my surfboard in the sand, but I sure as hell had no ambition to go down to get it now.
“That’s not a question,” I pointed out when she stopped talking.
“Um, right.” Her nails felt heavenly in my hair. “I just mean… I know my experience is limited, and…” Her voice trailed off, but we both knew what she meant. “Terrible” would be the word I would use. “But I thought men couldn’t… Are you uncomfortable?”
On my knees, I was about shoulder-height for her.
I looked up to see her eyes fixed on my erection.
“I told you, there’s more to sex than penetration.
You have no idea how badly I want to make love to you, Caroline.
It’s all I’ve dreamed about for weeks. But this,” I bobbed my head upward to draw her attention to my hair that she was washing.
“This is just as special, just as important. Am I uncomfortable?” I shrugged.
“Maybe a little, but it’s a sweet discomfort. ”
“I don’t understand.”
I tried to think of a way to explain it.
“There’s a…power, an amplification, to anticipation.
Like smelling a pua roasting all day, and knowing that first bite is going to be divine.
Yes, I want to be inside you, but I also want this.
What we’re building here, the connection… It’s more powerful than just fucking.”
She nodded slowly, but I also got the impression that she didn’t quite understand what I was saying.
“Aren’t you aroused?” I asked her. I knew she was, and I wasn’t trying to embarrass her with the admission.
“Do you feel the static in the air?” I ran my fingers up her legs.
“The sweet bite of my touch?” Her hips rocked as her legs shifted, like she was trying to relieve a pressure.
Her nipples tightened as I dropped my mouth to the top of her tit.
“Do you feel the expectation, the promise, of what is to come once that water turns off?”
Her breath was husky as Caroline answered, “Yes…”
I pulled my hand and my mouth away from her. “Is it uncomfortable?”
She groaned, her legs shifting again. “A little.”
I laughed. “See?”
Caroline moved so the spray hit me again as she rinsed out my hair. I closed my eyes and tipped my head back for her. “I almost don’t want to wash your body now.” It was my turn to groan, and her turn to laugh. “Don’t worry. I still will. But I understand what you mean.”
I was glad I’d figured out a way to explain it to her. The heat in the shower rose as she started running the washcloth over my shoulders.
“Can I ask you another question?”
“You don’t need to ask permission,” I reminded her. “Just ask.”
I saw her nod out of the corner of my eye, but she did not make a sound to ask her question. I pulled her wrist gently to bring her in front of me.
“Just ask,” I repeated gently.
“What if I don’t like it?” Her voice so low it was nearly swallowed up by the rush of the water overhead. “What if I’m broken?”
I stared up at her, needing no clarification.
Slowly, I stood. I took the washcloth from her hands, but only to keep her from wringing it to death.
“You’re not broken. The fact that you can let me touch you proves that.
” I ran the backs of my fingers down her cheek.
“As for liking it, it’s my job to make sure you do. ”
“Your…job?” She repeated the words back to me like I’d spoken a foreign language.
“Let me explain to you what’s going to happen when that water turns off.
” I dropped the washcloth and brought my hands up to her face to keep her attention on me.
“We’re going to dry off, and I’m going to take you into our bedroom.
I’m going to lay you down on our bed and worship every inch of your body.
With my hands, with my mouth, with my tongue… You will feel no pain, only pleasure.”
Her wide eyes looked like saucers as she stared up at me. “Wha-what about you?” she stuttered.
I leaned down and pressed a quick kiss to her lips.
“When you say you’re ready, and only when you say, I will enter your incredible body and sate myself.
And even then, you will know only pleasure.
” Her jaw hung open. I tried not to laugh at her gob-smacked expression, but it was just too fucking adorable.
“Now,” I bent again, only this time I kissed her nose, “do you want to pick up the washcloth or turn off the water? The choice is yours.”
Caroline blindly reached behind her, and after several failed attempts, she turned off the water.
I chuckled, my dick twitching in anticipation. “Good girl.”
We dried off quickly, and broke the rules of the communal bathroom by leaving the washcloth in the shower, our clothes on the floor, and the wet towels by the sink. But fuck it. I wasn’t pausing to clean up the bathroom.
Lifting her into my arms, I walked us naked down the hall to our bedroom. Just in case there was someone still straggling about, I kept my hands over her ass as I carried her. With our fronts pressed together, no one would be able to see anything important of hers.
Her tongue traced over my shoulder. “I love your tattoos. Someday you’ll have to tell me what they all mean.”
I agreed with “someday”, because I had far too many to go into that explanation today. “Same,” I replied, my hand drifting up from her ass to her lower back.
Caroline lifted her head from my shoulder. “What do you mean?”
I walked us into our bedroom, closing the door with my foot. “What do you mean, what do I mean? Your tattoo, someday you’ll need to tell me what it means too.”
I would have kept going to the bed, except her expression stopped me in my tracks. She’d gone pale. Well, paler than usual. Almost looking sick to her stomach like she’d been on a boat too long.
“What is it? What’s wrong?”
“Show me.” Her voice was a croak, very unlike Caroline.
I lowered her feet to the carpet. “Are you being serious right now? You didn’t know you had a tattoo?”
If I didn’t know the extent of her circumstances over the past eight years, I would question how someone had a tattoo they didn’t know about. Even drunks generally found it the next morning. I had one of those on my thigh.
Tears welled up in her eyes, and I knew in that instant that this was no joke. Caroline honestly had no idea that there was a tattoo on her lower back. Taking her hand, I brought her over to the closet and the full length mirror there.
I turned her so her back was to the mirror, and then touched my other hand to her lower back so she knew where to look. It took her a moment to work up the nerve, squeezing my fingers with a strength I didn’t even know she had.
Hesitantly, she twisted her upper body so we both could look into the mirror and see the lettering at the small of her back.
ばいた
Tears streamed down her cheeks as her chin started to tremble. I honestly had no idea what to say or do. Her reaction terrified me, because I knew without her having to say it who had given her that tattoo.
The more she stared at it, the harder she started to shake. But when I went to pull her into my arms, she moved away from me. Releasing my hand, she nearly backed herself into the closet to get away from me.
“Don’t touch me!”
I froze, not moving closer but also not stepping away. “What is it? Talk to me, Caroline. How can I help you?”
She kept herself facing me, like she was trying to hide the tattoo. I did not point out that I could still see it in the reflection of the mirror on the closet door.
“I can’t…” Her tears were like slices to my soul. “I can’t…” She shook her head. “I didn’t know that was there… He marked the others, but not me.”
Jones put that tattoo on the other women too?
On Nishi? I didn’t know what the symbols specifically meant, but I could guess they were nothing good.
It was on the small of her back, and given the conditions she’d been forced to live under, it was understandable that she didn’t know about it.
Without a mirror, I certainly couldn’t see that area on myself.
Had her doctor not seen it when I brought her and Samantha for their checkup?
Maybe they had and thought nothing of it, not understanding the significance of it.
It didn’t look new, nor did it look infected, so the doctor likely had no reason to question its presence.
Caroline had only ever worn one-piece swimsuits. She did not wear bikini tops or anything overly revealing. Most days, she wore sundresses.
Falling to her knees, Caroline’s hands covered her face as she let out a pitiful wail.
My heart broke for her, and I had no idea what to do or how to help.
I rushed over to my dresser and pulled on a pair of shorts.
I didn’t think in her state that she would appreciate my nudity right now.
Then I hurried over to the bed and pulled off the thin blanket.
Careful not to touch her, I draped the blanket over her shoulders. Her hands traveled from her face to her arms to catch the ends, pulling it further around herself.
I sat on my ass, bracing my back against the wall. I had no idea what to do or what to say. I was so fucking helpless that I even contemplated calling Lu to come help.
When she spoke, I almost didn’t register her attempt, but I still couldn’t make out the word. “What did you say?”
Her head snapped up, and though tears still streamed heavily down her cheeks, it wasn’t pain or sadness on her face. It was anger. “Whore!” she shouted at the top of her lungs. “You want to know what it means so badly? It means ‘whore’!”
I sat there frozen in shock as she scrambled to her feet, nearly tripping over the blanket. Whore. My heart pounded in my chest, the word like acid to my skin. Caroline had the word “whore” tattooed at the small of her back, and she had no idea until I had pointed it out to her.
Reality came crashing down on me. The same reality I’d pushed away at the beach.
Caroline was a seventeen-year-old sex trafficking victim.
Our feelings for each other did not change that.
I could not change that. I had been about to take a seventeen-year-old woman—girl—to my bed.
No matter what the law said the age of consent was, I had no business touching her.
Shame came crashing over me like a tidal wave. I was no better than Weatherby Dalton-Jones IV. I was sick, perverted. Add in the blood on my hands, and she deserved someone so much better than me. I didn’t even know how to comfort her at this shocking revelation.
Caroline let out a low, pitiful moan. “I tried to warn you… I tried to tell you what I am…”
I jumped to my feet so fast that she startled, stepping back away from me. “That ink on your skin does not make you who you are,” I sneered. “Don’t you ever fucking say that.”
Tears continued to stain her cheeks. I made no move to catch them. I would not, could not, ever touch her again.
“I think you should go.”
The words were like the final nail in my coffin. She was right, but that did not take away the pain. The guilt of what I had done. It didn’t matter that I hadn’t actually had sex with her. My hands and mouth had been all over her. I’d touched her when I had no right to.
I nodded, “Ho’oponopono.” I headed for the door. I did not look back at her as I said, “I never lied about loving you. It kills me that I hurt you. Take care of yourself, Caroline.”
It would no longer be my responsibility. I could not be trusted around her, and whatever wrath or punishment came my way for what I’d done with her this morning, I would gladly take. Because no pain could be worse than the agony tearing apart my soul right now.