Chapter 19 Rosalie
ROSALIE
Jackson leads me to the bathroom where we trade smiles as he starts the water in his walk-in shower.
I’m not a huge fan of shower sex—or, at least, outside of books.
In real life, someone is freezing while the other enjoys the warm spray of water.
Plus, the slippery floor is a hazard. I don’t say any of this, though, because when Jackson tugs me under the shower head with him, it’s not to make out.
He reaches over to the loofa—my loofa—and pours a bit of my shower gel onto it before grabbing my hand. Starting at my wrist, he scrubs his way up my arm, then across my shoulders to the other arm. He washes my entire body, and while his movements aren’t sexual, they’re more intimate than I expect.
“Want me to do you next?” I ask, my gaze following the water as it sluices down his perfectly defined body.
His chuckles wash over me as he turns my body so my back is to his front.
“No, this shower is all about you.”
“I don’t hate the sound of that,” I quip back.
“Good.” He brushes my hair back and presses his mouth against my neck. I arch into his body and his half-hard cock bobs into my ass. I expect him to continue kissing and rubbing against me, but instead he pulls back and reaches for my shampoo on the shelf. “Tip your head back,” he commands softly.
I’ve never had my hair washed by a partner. I’m so stunned, I can’t speak. He didn’t read this in a book—at least not the ones I’ve given him.
His fingers dig into my scalp, massaging my head as the friction creates suds. After he rinses them away, he moves me out of the spray to work conditioner into my locks.
“It needs to set a few minutes,” I say before he can pull me back under the shower head.
“I know.”
He winks, then proceeds to put on a fucking show washing himself.
Every molecule of my body is on full alert as his hands travel over every muscled inch of his skin.
My breath catches in my chest as I hastily memorize this Adonis before me.
Does he know what he’s doing? He must, because when he’s done and his gaze lifts to mine, it’s accompanied by one of his wicked smiles.
“Come here.” He tugs me back under the spray with him, this time facing me.
He captures my mouth with his. He brushes his lips against mine, gently at first, but when I part my lips and his tongue meets mine, our kiss becomes hotter than the water.
I hold on to him, my hands greedy as my lips crash against his.
His tongue plunges into my mouth and his hands wrap around my backside, his fingers digging into my flesh so hard, I’ll probably have bruises tomorrow.
If this is a game, I don’t know who is winning.
It doesn’t even matter because my entire body is on fire, and he’s the only one who can offer relief.
He pulls away, his chest heaving and lips swollen. His lips turn up with his grin.
“Got a little carried away. Sorry.”
“Don’t be.” That’s the last thing I want him to apologize for. “I liked it.”
“Yeah, you did.” He winks, moving my body and tilting my head back. “But we still need to rinse you off.”
“Oh.”
The last thing on my mind is rinsing the conditioner from my hair, but I humor him. I’m a little disappointed when he shuts off the water a minute later. Making out in the shower with him is more fun than I expected. I want to do more of that.
Jackson hands me an oversized towel, and while I dry off, he steps out of the shower and grabs another to dry himself.
I wrap the towel around my chest and squeeze the last of the water from my hair before joining him.
His towel is slung low on his hips, wrapped so I get treated to a naughty peek-a-boo. I can’t keep myself from staring.
“Hey, perv,” he teases. “My eyes are up here.”
I can’t help but smile.
“Here.” Jackson pulls out the stool from beneath his bathroom vanity counter. “Sit.”
“Okay.” I eye him with interest and take a seat. He turns me in the chair so I face the mirror, and reaches for my hair dryer. “You don’t have to dry my hair, Jackson.”
“I want to.”
“Jackson.” I draw out his name.
Washing my body and hair in the shower was enough. This level of pampering is over the top and completely unnecessary.
“Rosalie.” He parrots my tone and moves to stand in front of me. He waits for my gaze to meet his. “When was the last time someone took care of you?”
Indignation rises in my chest. “I take care of myself just fine.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
Frustrated, I furrow my brows and shake my head.
“What do you want from me?”
He pauses, considering his answer longer than I’d like. The silence makes me nervous. What is he not saying?
His gaze is full of question when he finally speaks.
“Let me take care of you tonight?”
Let him. He’s asking for consent. I appreciate that about him more than I could ever express. It diffuses some of the discomfort in my body.
“Tonight,” I warn him. I will let him do this, but only tonight. Because when Saturday rolls around, I’m gone. I remind him. “I’m only here two more nights.”
“I know, darlin’.” He closes the space between us and leans over to press a kiss to my forehead. “Let me take care of you. Let me do this tonight.”
I don’t answer, but my shoulders relax. I don’t have it in me to fight him when he’s being so damn sweet.
I watch him through the reflection of the mirror as he plugs in my hair dryer and stands beside me, working the heat through my locks, one section at a time.
His brow furrows in concentration, and it’s honestly cuter than it should be.
He finger combs my hair in the process, and though I can tell he’s not an expert at this, he takes care to be gentle and thorough.
He turns off the blow dryer when he’s finished, and I catch him stifling a yawn.
“You must be exhausted.”
“I’m good.” He takes my hand and pulls me out of the bathroom, toward the bed. “I’m not ready to call it a night.”
He wants to go again? Maybe he really can give my book boyfriends a run for their money.
We lie down, but instead of kissing, we talk. He reaches for my hand and plays with it.
“Tell me what you did today besides wander around my house in sexy lingerie?”
“I definitely didn’t do that.”
“Shhh. That’s how I picture you in my house when I am gone. Don’t ruin the fantasy.”
“You’re ridiculous.” I shake my head and bite back a smile. “And I wasn’t doing anything remotely glamorous.”
“I’ll be the judge of that.”
“I actually spent most of the day writing.”
“Writing?” He frowns. “Like, for work?”
“No. A book, actually.”
“You’re writing a book?” He pushes up on one arm, his eyes wide as he stares. “Fuck, is there anything you can’t do?” There’s so much admiration in his gaze, I have to look away.
“I can’t change a tire.” The need to play down my manuscript is second nature. I hold out a hand and extend a finger with each skillset I list. “I can’t ice skate. I’ve never been skiing.”
“Stop.” He places his palm over my hand. “Do you know how many people can write a fucking book? No one I’ve met.”
He might be correct, but my skin still heats at the attention. “It’s not technically finished.” It might never be.
“But you’re doing the damn thing. That takes so much courage. And talent.” He lifts his brows. “I mean, can you imagine me writing a book?”
I want to laugh, because no, I can’t. But that’s not because he’s incapable. I just can’t picture him spending hours behind a laptop. This man is a do-er. He works hard, he plays harder, and he would never waste his days writing when he could be living.
“I’m sure you could if you put your mind to it.”
“I doubt that.” He chuckles, lying back on the bed and pulling me down with him. “I can’t believe I’m sleeping with a writer.” The tenderness in his tone does a funny thing to my insides. “That’s so damn cool.”
“What about you?” The need to change the subject is overpowering. “How was your day?”
“Oh boy, do I have a story for you!”
“Oh, yeah?” I lift my head and rest my chin on his chest.
“Yeah, so you know how you downloaded that library app for me?”
“Yes.”
“I was listening most of the day. Until my headphones died and my phone decided to play the book at full volume in front of the entire crew. My brother, Ryan. My nephew and his friend, too.”
“No!” I gasp. “Wait, what part?”
“Straight dirty talk.”
“Of course.” I can’t hold back my giggles.
He glares, but there isn’t any malice behind those gorgeous eyes. I cover my smile.
“Sorry.”
“Are you?” He grins. “Because you appear to be tickled pink by my mortification.”
“I need to know how you explained that.”
“Oh, I tried. But I don’t think anyone believes me. They all assumed I was watching porn.”
“Oh, dear.”
“Yeah, I’m never living it down. But if it happened to anyone else on the crew, I’d razz them about it for the rest of their life, so I respect that.”
I’m glad he’s so good-natured about the entire ordeal. If that happened to me at the library, I might actually have to quit and move away.
“Then Ryan pulled me into the barn, and we had a weird conversation.”
“Weird how?”
He sighs. “For one, he noticed I borrowed the hay bales.”
“What did you tell him?”
“I told him I put them back, but between that and the audio porn he kinda lost his mind.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Why? It’s not your fault.”
“I mean, the audiobooks are my fault.”
“I’m the idiot who didn’t charge my headphones overnight.”
“Well, I’m sorry if that caused problems between you and your brother.”
“It was probably needed. Even though most of what he said was total BS, he was right about a few things.” He shakes his head. “But enough of that. When do I get to read this book of yours?”
“I’m not sure.” I am still on the fence about letting him, or anyone, read it. “It’s not done and when it is, I’m not sure it’ll be good enough to publish.”
“Nonsense. I’m sure it’s incredible.”
“You’re just saying that.”