18. CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Stumbling and partly carried, I was suddenly out in the relatively freezing air. I gulped it down, instant shivers wracking my body. Within moments, cold water stung needle-pricks across my feet and legs, before running down my back and arms. One of those arms was slung around a strong pair of shoulders.
“Better?” Emil asked, holding me up against a chilly tile wall with his own body. I squinted at my surroundings, our intimate contact only partially registering.
We were in a shower. When had we gotten here?
I nodded, my head spinning before slowly starting to clear.
“We should go,” he suggested.
I shook my head violently. Bad idea.
He huffed out a breath, then shut off the water. We stood there quietly until my limbs stopped trembling.
“Can you stand?” he asked.
I jiggled my legs a little. They seemed sturdy enough. “Yes.”
He let me go and returned with fresh towels. One he flipped over his shoulder, then wrapped the other around mine.
“You’re sure you want to stay? ”
“I’m sure.”
“Can you walk?”
Another nod.
Emil held my hand, leading me down a hall toward the adults only baths. He guided me to a glassy pool, lowering himself onto a submerged ledge before pulling me in next to him. The water was luxuriously cool compared to to the hellish sauna. My skin, even after being doused in the cold shower, burned with a dull heat. I sank down into the water up to my neck.
“How could anyone enjoy that?” I blubbered, my words catching over themselves as I lay my head upon his shoulder. His drifted to rest atop mine.
“It’s all about degrees of tolerance. For people used to it, it’s not a big deal.”
“It wasn’t too intense in there for you?”
He paused. “It was.”
“But you didn’t pass out,” I remarked.
“I almost did, just earlier.”
“How long were you in there before I arrived?”
“About a minute.”
I frowned. It didn’t add up.
“Not from the heat,” he clarified pointedly, at last peeking at me out of the corner of his eye.
It clicked into place, remembering the way he’d looked at me when I walked in. Oh.
“Are you used to this?” I asked, trailing my fingers up his forearm. “Are spas the same in Bosnia?”
“No and no. But you seemed to want to do it, so I went along.”
“I didn’t know people would be naked!” I exclaimed, twisting in the arm he’d wrapped around my shoulders. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
He blushed, which was impressive, considering he was already red from the water. “Honestly, Mal. It isn’t a secret. ”
My face burned. I wondered if it was as obvious as his. “‘Spa’ means something very different where I come from.”
“All of Europe knows the German ideas around nudity.”
“Well, I’m not European. I didn’t plan for this. That woman…” I fumed, slumping further into the pool as I recalled the receptionist’s knowing grin. She understood exactly what she was doing, sending me to the wolves. My hands swished through the water in front of me before I let them sink. My right rested on Emil’s knee.
“Are you mad?” he asked as I ran my fingertips absentmindedly through his smattering of hair.
I was embarrassed at being tricked and at being caught off guard. But mad? My hand wandered a tiny bit higher, curious if he would stop me. He didn’t.
“Not really,” I said. “Are you?”
It was quiet for a moment. We were the only two in this bath, secluded from the others. His fingers traced a pattern on my shoulder.
“No,” he replied. “Surprised, not angry.”
I lifted my head, and his eyes locked with mine. “Have you ever done this before?”
His gaze heated. “Sat naked with a woman or been to a bathhouse?”
My lips fought from raising into a smile as I nodded. “Yes.”
“Yes. And no.”
My unoccupied hand swept through the water again, and the movement stirred the air, the faint chemical smell growing stronger.
“Wait,” I realized. “Never have I ever been in a pool.” I turned so my chest pressed into his side. “Emil, we’ve checked off something for you!”
He stared at me, nonplussed.
“We’re in a pool!”
After a beat, he broke out in a full-fledged grin. Then his expression softened as he leaned back, drinking it in. His hand mirrored mine through the water, and they danced together. They twisted and turned, catching beneath the surface. I held fast, running a gentle nail up his palm.
“So? What do you think so far?” I let go, my hand breaking the surface to gently stroke the side of his stubbled face.
His breath shuddered, but he didn’t so much as blink. “I think…I could get used to it if it was like this all the time.”
My heart hammered in my chest. Surely he could feel it, I was pressing myself so tightly against him. “Me, too.”
I drew in as close as possible without our lips touching. His parted beneath my gaze, and I nudged his nose with my own, staring up at him through half-lowered lids.
“Mallory.” My name was a warning.
“Emil.” His sounded urgent, needy, in my mouth.
And I did need him. It didn’t matter that we were plainly visible to others. They’d paid us no mind before, but at this point, I wouldn’t care if they pulled up a ringside seat. My insides ached, my heart clenched, my whole body on fire for an entirely different reason. There was only one release, and he held the key.
“Please…”
And his lips claimed mine.
I melted in his embrace, in his heady touch. The world faded away, the steam drawing around us in an invisible curtain. I was lost and found all at the same time. His hand drifted down my side, resting at the bend of my hip. I whimpered quietly because it wasn’t far enough, and I felt his smile.
A decidedly un-sexy grunt permeated our little bubble. I turned to watch an older couple pass by, throwing us disapproving looks.
Emil followed my gaze. We burst out in quiet sniggers, watching their au naturel selves sink into a pool across the room.
“Oh, this is too good!” I laughed, leaning into the wall.
“I think we made a problem.”
“The audacity,” I said, tossing my arms into the air in dramatic, mocking dismay .
Emil’s fingers were busy running higher and higher circles up the inside of my thigh. Instantly, the people were forgotten.
He leaned in. “They can’t complain about what they can’t see,” he whispered.
My mouth dropped open, every nerve engaged and at attention. Never in my life had I done anything like this in public, but I’d never desired something so much as his touch on my skin as I did right now. I turned my head, willing him to kiss me, but he pulled away barely out of reach. My brows creased at the denial, but he grinned.
“Tsk, tsk,” he admonished playfully. “Out of sight.” To drive his point home, his painstakingly slow touch brushed along my ribs. Up. Up. Up.
And stopped, just barely beneath the surface.
I liked this game.
My hands explored, running a line down his abs, and, just as they were about to dip lower, I stilled. My eyes were drawn up to his, and I saw my own hunger reflected back at me. I wanted to devour him.
But this was a game I didn’t want to end. With a smirk, my hand changed course, following his preferred path along the inner thighs. I bent my fingers, my nails scraping lightly against his skin. He hissed, and his eyes snapped shut with a shiver. I took advantage, savoring each reaction. I took in the things I couldn’t normally without outright staring. His thick lashes. Near his widow’s peak, a cowlick turned a section of hair to swirl in the opposite direction of the rest. Beneath his left eyebrow was the hint of a long-healed gash, which appeared and disappeared in the catch of light.
I reached farther toward his knee as a ruse to inch closer and pushed up to place a kiss at the top of the scar.
I sank into the water as he twisted and looked down at me lazily, our noses grazing.
“Cheater,” he murmured against my lips.
“All’s fair in love and war.” The words were out before I thought about what was coming from my mouth—specifically that one, very particular, four-letter word. He stared at me curiously. I pulled back a few inches, breaking the spell with a forced laugh. “Do you know that saying?”
He gave a curious nod.
Darn it.
I sat up straight, bringing my hand into my lap, and searching around for a way to erase my verbal slipup. I locked on to a plain clock in the corner. It was out of place, too modern and slick in this ornate space. It was later than I would’ve guessed. Did time just move strangely when wrapped in Emil’s luxurious embrace? Or had I been passed out longer than I’d thought?
I shuddered at embarrassing thing number 258 for the day and worked to sound cool and casual. “What do you say?”
“About?”
“Do you…want to go back?” I cleared my throat nervously, hyperaware of what I was implying. “To the hotel?”
He looked at me for a beat with eyes warring between hunger and concern, his face otherwise set with his signature, impassive expression. I was trapped there for a moment before he finally let loose a breath and simply said, “Okay.”
I stood, the water spilling from the crooks of my arms and pouring down my legs. I felt every rivulet’s path down my sensitive skin. I could hear Emil following behind me, but I didn’t look back.
We collected our towels and returned to the locker room where we showered, dried, and dressed in silence. Inside, I was reeling.
Would this ruin things between us?
Or would it make them a million times better?
I wanted this…right?
“Do you have everything?” he asked, scanning the locker to double-check.
I pulled my bag over my head and nodded.
There was a distinct gap between our bodies as we walked through the spa. Even his fingertips didn’t quite touch the small of my back, hovering only as he ushered me through their doors into the balmy sunlight.
“Are you all right?” he asked when we were nearing the hotel.
“Yes,” I said, leveling a sideways look at him. “Are you?”
“Better now,” he joked, running an absentminded hand over the front of his T-shirt. It stuck to his damp skin. My mouth watered at the imprint of muscles in the fabric before jerking my gaze to the ground.
Nerves danced in my belly as we moved through the lobby, up the stairs, and to my door. I fumbled through my bag for my key. He was distractingly close, the near-but-not-touching driving me crazy and doing strange things to my heart rate. Finally, I found it and held it up awkwardly.
“Got it.”
“Okay.” He turned as if to go to his room, but paused after one step. “I don’t—”
I waited, but he seemed unable to continue. “What?”
He sighed. “I don’t want to frighten you.”
My stomach dropped. “You think you scare me?”
He hesitated, then leaned opposite my room, his legs extending to the middle of the hall, thumbs hooked in his pockets. His head lolled to face me. “Maybe.”
I mimicked his stance next to my door, my arms crossed over my chest. “Did I give you that impression?” I asked, trying to keep it light. “Because I don’t usually make out with—” It was my turn to grow quiet as the pieces clicked together in answer.
He watched it happen. “The first night when we met, I saw the fear in you. You were afraid of me.”
I shook my head, even as I said, “I was. But you know why.”
“Yes,” he breathed.
“So why do you think I’d still be scared of you now?”
“Not…me,” he said, his words faltering. He frowned. “Things…bad things, bad memories, don’t just go away. And what can make them resu rface doesn’t always make sense.”
I let it sink in. I understood better than I wanted to, but what I wanted more was him.
“Maybe,” I agreed. “But if you remember, even when I was afraid of you, I followed you anyway.”
He cocked his head to the side, curious. “Why did you?”
“Honestly? Because the alternative was to keep wandering the streets in the dark without a direction. I told myself that I’d been the one to ask. You simply answered.” I chuckled softly.
“What’s funny?” He wasn’t laughing.
“I was thinking, I guess you could say you’ve become my direction.”
His somber eyes widened in surprise.
Holy shit, why did I keep blurting this stuff out?
I’d called him gorgeous. I’d mentioned the taboo four-letter word. If I wasn’t careful, my “direction” would be gone, bolting down the hall to get away from the psycho that was me.
“Sorry,” I said. “That probably sounded lame.”
“It wasn’t. But you can change it.”
“Change what?”
“It’s your turn. Be my direction.” He straightened, winding his hands behind him flat and pinned by his butt. His gaze was insistent, a sultry dare. “Show me what to do.”
I couldn’t keep up with him. This beautiful, sometimes gruff, sometimes sweet, shy, but always sexy man had too many prismatic facets. It was intoxicating, not knowing which side of him I was about to discover next. But I hadn’t seen this coming. As I juggled the array of feelings he evoked with such a simple statement, the picture in the puzzle became clear.
He was putting me in charge, relinquishing control, because he knew this was exactly what I needed. Each moment since we started this journey together flashed by in a slideshow. Where we’d gone so far, the things we’d seen and done—he’d left it largely up to me. Whether it had been a conscious decision on his part or not, I couldn’t know, but each little choice had silently fed me back that modicum of power.
But this was a big leap, one we both recognized for what it was. It had to be me to deliberately take this step, and he was unequivocally giving me the deciding say once again.
My heart felt fit to burst with appreciation.
And I was about to milk that power for all it was worth.
I moved slowly, and his pupils dilated, the black swallowing up the brown centers, as he tracked each shift and step. My hands splayed against the wall on either side of his head as I smiled my thank you. As I stared deep into his eyes, I noticed his posture thaw a little, but otherwise he stayed perfectly still.
“Can I kiss you?” I asked.
“Come here and kiss me like you want to.”
And I did just that.
My lips grazed his—feather-light, part tease, part nerves. He couldn’t help his mouth’s response, the slightest purse for an extra millimeter more of contact. Our kiss deepened, and his hands finally released from the wall to snake around my hips, drawing me closer. Things were heating up fast, and he broke away to bury his face in the crook of my neck.
“Mallory…” he murmured along my skin, his face tilting up so the words brushed against the bottom of my ear. The soft inflection of his accent when he said my name in full always managed to do something inexplicable to my insides. Gently, his teeth grazed across my lobe. I was already panting, grappling to wad his shirt into my fists.
Taking the reins a little, he pushed me against the wall opposite, cradling my head as he pressed a series of languid kisses from my lips down my neck to my collarbone. His body pressed into me, and I could feel without question he craved me just as badly.
“Emil, now .”
He pulled back. “Are you sure? We don’t have to—”
I huffed, cutting him off. “That’s sweet, but I do need to.”
His answering smile was erotic as his heavy gaze landed on my lips. I fumbled desperately for my key card again. At last, the slide of the dead bolt unlocked much more than just the door.