Chapter 20
SIENNA
I was so cold on the back of his bike I could hardly feel my legs anymore. Even hugging him tight stopped working to keep me warm hours before he finally took pity on us. But my hands were warm, especially after I slid them into the pockets of his jacket.
I didn’t expect him to follow me into the bathroom. But there he is, standing in the doorway and watching me peel off my wet clothes as the mists from the hot water I’m letting run slowly rise all around us.
His eyes are piercing me with all the intensity of the sun glinting off ice. They’re locked on mine, but I know he can see all of me and I’m sure I can even see a faint trace of a smile once I remove all my clothes and stand before him naked.
His eyes are still just boring into me, but I can feel the heat of the sun in them. Not going to be enough to warm me after that ride, though.
“Hurry up or all the hot water will be gone,” I say and step under the scalding hot water.
At first, it’s so hot it actually feels cold, but after a few moments, feeling and warmth finally start returning to my body.
The shower doors are so fogged up I can only see his outline.
He is still just standing there watching me, clearly battling those demons that prevent him from giving into me again.
Those demons might be too powerful to beat. I understand that. And for now, I will settle for these stolen moments when his gaze on my skin is hotter than scalding water.
We beat the demons back just a little. Because he opens the shower door and joins me in the steamy hotness.
I already knew he was solid muscle from sleeping in his arms and holding onto him for most of the night.
But to see it is something else entirely.
His abs and his arms, even his legs ripple with muscles.
Most of his skin is covered in tattoos. And scars too.
Angry red ones, long white ones. Slashes and holes.
From knives and guns both, I’m sure. There’s even a burn covering his left forearm.
Right where he let me write my name using a needle and blue ballpoint pen ink.
The burn is bigger than my signature was, but I still think he did it himself, to wipe it off.
I run my hand over the burn. It makes him flinch. But he doesn’t pull back.
Nor does he come closer.
His whole body is tense, like he’s bracing to flee or to fight. I feel it in his arm and in the air between us.
I want him to do neither. I want him to surrender to this moment, here, with me, no promise of tomorrow, just the hope of feeling good tonight. It’s all we ever really have.
I want to kiss him. I want to kneel down and take his cock in my mouth.
It’s hard, just waiting for me. I want him inside me.
It’s been so long since I had him last. And so long since I took a man with joy and desire, not from duty and inevitability.
But more than all that, I just want to touch him.
I smile at him, then pour some shower gel in my palm, lathering it up before sliding my hands down his chest. Every one of the hard ripples of his muscles I touch sends my heart racing just a little faster.
I continue with his neck, his strong arms, washing that burn extra hard like I can erase it and reveal my name and the little heart I made to dot the i in my name.
At first, he was tense, his muscles hard as stone, but he’s starting to relax slowly as I run my hands over his legs then up his back, and down his stomach again.
The tension is gone, the air between us as soft as the mists of steam as he takes the shower gel, lathers up his hands and runs them down my neck and across my breasts, down my stomach and arms, washing me as I washed him.
The demons standing between us are somewhere else now, hidden beyond these soft mists. I’m sure they’re not gone, I’m sure they’ll be back soon. But I’m glad they’re giving us this time.
I haven’t been touched this softly, this gently, since I was with him last. Maybe by my husband way in the beginning while he was still pretending to be a good man, but it was never like this, never this good.
The water is slowly turning colder and colder, the mists dissipating. He guides me under the jets so I can rinse off. Then does the same while the water is barely lukewarm.
Even his gaze is softer now, no longer piercing, just warm like the afternoon sun is warm. I dare not speak, because I don’t want to break this softness between us, don’t want to call back the demons with my words.
And as he dries me with the scratchy towel, I dare to believe that the demons holding us apart might actually be beatable.
Especially as he leads me to the bed and helps me get under the covers. He climbs in beside me, holding me gently in his arms.
I fall asleep with that happy thought. With that happy hope that I can thaw his heart, chase away all the demons. Kill them and make him love me again like I’ve always loved him.