“Maybe so, but I just don’t want you to see me.” The disgust in her voice was very real and brought pain to his heart. It angered him that what she saw in the mirror was still exactly what JT wanted her to see.
Evil bastard.
He squeezed her delicate body in his arms and kissed above what felt like her ear. “Oh, Lily. Why do you see yourself in such a negative light?”
“Because I have eyes. I know what I see every time I look in a mirror.” He could hear the tinge of sorrow that clouded the disgust in her tone. “I’m sick of it.”
“How bad could it have been, honey?”
“I have pictures. I can show you, when I go find the lab test results. You’ll see.” The last word was whispered.
She put her arm around his shoulder and let him lift her. She felt more fragile, and while he loved holding her, his heart ached at how breakable she now felt in his arms. He carefully lowered her, keeping her secure until she settled into the tub and let go of him. He stood and waited with his eyes closed as she splashed.
“You can open your eyes.” When he looked down at her, she was blushing. She’d arranged the suds so none of her beautiful attributes, besides her lovely face and shoulders, were visible. Keeping eye contact, she gratefully said, “Thank you, Clay.”
“You’re welcome.” He squatted down to her and swiped his finger through a mound of bubbles and dotted her nose with it. “Soak that knee for a while. I’m going to get you a bottle of water. Please tell me that you at least ate lunch.”
She nodded sincerely. “I’m not that obsessed, Clay. And thank you for the water. I’m dying of thirst.” As he left the room she called out, “All those foil-wrapped packages are for Del. Our supper is sitting on the stove if you’re hungry.”
Thinking of Del brought to mind the brief, magical moment in the living room the previous week on Christmas Day, right before Del had left. Lily had climbed into Clay’s lap to relax.
Through half-lidded eyes he’d watched Del observe Lily as she’d settled into Clay’s arms, and the moment had been unspeakably hot. He’d fantasized later on how that night might’ve played out if his brother had stayed and the tattoo hadn’t been a worry.
He’d noticed Del shifted to compensate for a growing erection as Clay had held Lily. His own cock had stiffened at the feel of her cuddly, warm body nestling against him, and he’d been able to see the lust gleaming in Del’s eyes. His thoughts must’ve bothered him because seconds later he’d made his excuses and left. Still, Clay thought he might change his mind about the viability of a ménage once he met the guys.
After Del had left, they’d had their dessert and then cuddled back in the chair and had a movie marathon. Lily had napped in his arms for part of the afternoon, and Clay hadn’t minded a bit, even though his erection never went down completely. It had become a common sensation when he was around Lily, as though he were a randy teenager, aroused at the least little stimulus.
Compared to his relatively sterile and boring existence prior to Lily crashing back into his life, he appreciated the difference, even if it did leave him with few options for relief besides jacking off in a warm shower.
During the movie marathon, Lily let him pick the movie and had seemed to take particular note when they watched Wanted with Angelina Jolie and Morgan Freeman. He’d hidden his smile when she’d asked in an offhand manner what Clay thought of a woman with tattoos, since the heroine in the movie sported quite a bit of body art.
His response? “Totally sexy, though I’m more of a Marilyn Monroe kind of guy.”
Lily had giggled and responded, “Oh yeah?”
Clay had laughed quietly. “Don’t sound so surprised. You knew that about me. I want a woman with soft, round curves.” He’d grasped her thigh gently. “One who’s nice to snuggle up with.” He’d lightly squeeze her upper body. It was purely involuntary when he’d flexed his hips, pressing his erection against her hip for a second. “So a Marilyn Monroe–type with a little body art wouldn’t get kicked out of my bed.”
She’d gazed up into his eyes. “You know it could never work, right?” There was a playful twinkle in her eyes when she said it, so he scoffed.
“I beg to differ. I know exactly how it would work.”
“Nuh-uh. You’re what? Six foot five? And I’m five foot seven. You’d have to bend like a pretzel just to kiss me. Nope.”
She’d giggled as Clay had wrapped her up in a tight ball in his arms and replied, “I can do any shape pretzel you want, baby, just say the word. Besides, we’re more like puzzle pieces. We fit, Lily, no matter how you look at it.”