16. The Bathtub #4
“I need you,” she said.He positioned himself between her thighs, and she felt the head of him press against her entrance.
He paused there, one hand braced on the rim of the tub, the other on her hip.
She could see the restraint in his jaw, the way he was holding himself back.
“Don’t be careful with me,” she said.He pushed into her in one long, slow thrust. She gasped, her body stretching around him, the heat of him inside her different from the water, more intense.
He filled her completely, and she wrapped her legs around his hips, pulling him deeper.He held still for a moment, his forehead pressed against hers, their breath mingling in the steam.
Then he began to move.The water churned around them.
Each thrust sent waves over the rim of the tub, soaking the bath mat, but neither of them cared.
He moved with a controlled intensity, each stroke deep and deliberate, his hands gripping her hips to hold her in place.
She met him thrust for thrust, her body rising to meet his, the angle hitting something inside her that made her vision blur.
“Yes,” she breathed. “Right there.”He adjusted, angling his hips, and the next thrust made her cry out.
Her nails dug into his shoulders, and she felt him wince—the ribs, maybe, or one of the scars—but he didn’t stop.
If anything, he moved faster, harder, the water sloshing violently now.She was close.
She could feel it building, a tightening that started at the base of her spine and radiated outward.
Her thighs trembled against his hips. Her breath came in short, sharp gasps.
“Look at me,” he said.She opened her eyes.
His face was inches from hers, water streaming down his temples, his expression raw and unguarded in a way she’d never seen before.
No deflection. No charm. Just him.She shattered.
The orgasm rolled through her in waves, her body clenching around him, her back arching, a sound leaving her mouth that she couldn’t control.
He groaned and thrust deep, holding himself there, and she felt him spill inside her, his body going rigid, his jaw clenching.For a long moment, neither of them moved.
The water settled around them. The steam had thickened until the bathroom was almost opaque, the mirror completely fogged over.
She could feel his heart hammering against her chest, or maybe that was her own heart.
She couldn’t tell anymore.He withdrew slowly, and she felt the loss of him like something physical.
He sat back on his heels in the water, and she saw the grimace he’d been hiding finally break through. “Your ribs,” she said.
“I told you. They’re fine.”
“You’re a terrible liar.”He leaned forward and kissed her, soft this time, his lips barely brushing hers.
Then he shifted to sit beside her, his back against the tub wall, their shoulders touching.
The water had cooled slightly. She reached over the rim and turned the hot water handle, letting fresh heat pour in.They sat in silence for a while.
Her hand found his under the water.“You’re going to keep asking,” he said eventually. “About the scars. About what I do.”
“Yes.”
“And I’m going to keep not answering.”
“Probably.”He turned his head to look at her.
Water dripped from his hair onto his forehead.
The bruise on his jaw was already fading from purple to a sickly green at the edges, the kind of fast healing that didn’t make sense for a normal person.
She’d noticed that before. She was collecting details like that, filing them away without quite knowing what folder they belonged in.
“You’re getting close to something,” he said.
His voice had changed. The softness from a moment ago was gone, replaced by something careful.
“To figuring out things about me that you shouldn’t know. ”
“Shouldn’t, or don’t want to?”
“Both.”She turned to face him in the water. “You said your occupation right now is keeping me safe.”
“I did.”
“From what?”He looked at her for a long time.
She watched something happen behind his eyes—a calculation, a weighing of risk and reward.
She’d seen him do it before, though she hadn’t known that’s what it was.
The way he checked exits when they entered a room.
The way his hand moved to his lower back when an unfamiliar car parked outside.
The way he sometimes stood at the window at three in the morning, staring at nothing, his body coiled like a spring.
“You really want to know?” he asked.“I really want to know.”He exhaled.
His jaw worked. Then he shook his head, almost imperceptibly, and she watched the confession die before it reached his mouth.
“Ask me again sometime,” he said.“When?”
“When I’m not sitting in your bathtub.”She laughed.
It came out louder than she expected, bouncing off the tile walls.
He looked startled for a second, then the corner of his mouth lifted—just the unbruised side—and she could see him fighting a full smile.
“That’s not a no,” she said.“It’s not a no.
”She leaned against his shoulder. The hot water continued to pour in, steam rising around them.
Outside the bathroom window, she could hear rain starting to hit the glass.
Inside, the world was warm and quiet and his arm was around her and his heart was beating against her temple.She thought about the scars.
About the fast healing. About the way he’d appeared in her life like an answer to a question she hadn’t known she was asking.
She thought about the way he said her name, like it was something he was protecting.She was getting close to something.
She could feel it. And the terrifying part wasn’t the mystery itself—it was the growing certainty that when she finally uncovered the truth, she’d have to decide whether knowing changed anything.She looked up at him.
He was staring at the ceiling, water beading on his skin, his expression unreadable.
“Hey,” she said.He looked down at her.“Whatever it is,” she said, “it doesn’t change this.
”His arm tightened around her. He pressed his lips to the top of her head and held them there.
“Go to sleep,” he murmured against her hair. “We’re in a bathtub.”
“Best place to sleep, apparently. You’ve been telling me that for weeks.
”She smiled against his chest. The rain picked up outside.
The water cooled around them. And eventually, she did sleep—curled against him in the steam, her hand over his heart, counting the beats like a secret she was still learning to keep.