Bad Behavior(52)

"Put your hands on the wall." His voice wasn't gruff, but the command had something else in it, something hotter.

I put my palms against the wall beneath the shower head as he smoothed suds down my back, over my ass, and down my legs.

"Mmm. Smells like you."

"You like it?" He massaged the soap into my skin, erasing anything else.

"The smell or the service?" I asked and giggled. I giggled even more for having giggled in the first place.

"Either." He finished at my feet, soaping my Achilles.

"Both."

"Good, because now I'll need to do your front." He rose and took my shoulders to turn me toward him.

I obliged and let the water flow down my posterior. I leaned my head back and soaked my hair as he started soaping my front. His touch was firm on my shoulders, thorough as he continued lower. He lingered for only a second too long on each breast before moving on to my stomach. My nipples hardened under his touch. A warm sensation rushed through me that had nothing to do with the water and everything to do with the contact of his flesh on mine. When he got to my pussy, he ran his soapy hand along my mound, then on to my thighs.

"Shit." His voice was a low growl.

I leaned my head forward. "What?"

"Nothing." He knelt in front of me, never stopping his work. His dark hair was wet and wavy. Water beaded on his broad shoulders. Some droplets skirted down, joined with others, and then took the plunge down the wide expanse of his back.

He looked up at me, studying his handiwork. I studied him right back, the muscles of his chest and abs giving me a tantalizing show. His shaft hung between his legs, long and hard. Was that his problem? It certainly wasn't a problem for me. I imagined it between my lips and couldn't stifle an mmm sound.



       
         
       
        

"Evan, you can't make noises like that right now, okay?" He sounded strained.

"I can't help it. Your dick made me do it."

Another curse from him as he lathered my ankles.

The ringing in my ears had subsided a bit, though I still felt as fogged as the shower glass. I closed my eyes, enjoying the rubdown.

He stood. "You're all soaped. Let me get your face and then I'll wash your hair."

"You can't put that soap on my face. Do you know how much I pay for face soap? I bet I spend more on face soap and lotions in one year than the entire net worth of my parents."

"Well, this one time, you'll survive. I need to clean that cut."

I opened my eyes. I have a cut? "I have a cut?"

He gave me a slight nod. "Yes, it's not bad. But any head wound is going to bleed like a son of a bitch. Close your eyes."

I trusted him and returned to the foggy darkness as he ran his hands along my face with a feather touch. I felt a sting and flinched when he got to my hairline.

"That's the cut. I just need to get it good and clean. I'll bandage it once we're done here."

"It needs a bandage?" Should I be worried?

"Just a small one. Don't worry, angel, I'll take care of you."

"You've been doing well so far, but there are a few other things I'd like." I reached down and gripped his length.

He groaned before pulling my hand away. "Hands to yourself. You know what happens when you break the rules."

"You going to spank me, Lincoln?"

"Oh, that's a definite. Just not right now." His voice was a rasp.

His promise made me shiver despite the hot water. The fog lifted a bit as I remembered how he'd manhandled me the last time we'd made love. Funny, I'd never thought of it as "making love" until just then. Then I remembered everything in between. The things I'd done. Wash.

"Oh, Lincoln, I'm so sorry." My voice came out in a wail.

He took my chin between his thumb and forefinger. "Shh, everything's okay. I forgave you a while back, long before you asked. I still want an explanation, but after tonight I think I have a pretty good idea why you did what you did."

His look, his tone, everything about him was a comfort to me. He felt like coming home.

He released my chin. "Now let's finish getting you clean."

"I'll never be clean."

"Don't believe that for a second. It's not true." He turned his hand around so I could see the scars that crisscrossed his knuckles. "You can change." 

My tears mixed with the running water as he continued his work. After he'd washed my hair and done a quick soap-and-rinse himself, he turned the water off and scooted me out of the shower. He wrapped me in a fluffy white towel and hustled me back to his bed. He wrapped a towel loosely around his waist and sat next to me before arranging his first aid materials.