He watched me in bated silence, predatory hunger dancing in his eyes as they raked down my body. “I wanted to do that.”
“And I want to get clean. I smell like darkling,” I grumbled.
A huffed laugh was his only response as he headed for the bathroom. My eyes didn’t leave him as he walked, waiting for him to make another move, but he disappeared into the bathroom. I heard the shower turn on moments later.
I couldn’t keep the smile from spreading across my face as I removed my boots and pants. “Is there some sort of God’s tier brand of laundry detergent we have to use to wash these special other worldly clothes?”
He appeared in the doorway of the bathroom, rolling his eyes at my humor. “Don’t worry,Miterawill wash them. She’s got a talent for getting the smell out of the leathers. Just toss them in the basket.”
I approached the bathroom, feeling his heated gaze on my naked skin, but he stepped to the side, holding his hand out in invitation. “It’s all yours.”
He left me alone in the bathroom to disarm himself. I stepped into the spray, the hot water rolling over my skin, burning away the soreness, and a groan of relief slipped from my throat. The tension in my body eased, and I stood there, basking in the heat as it consumed me.
My head fell forward, and I saw the black swirls of darkling blood mix with the water before it slipped down the drain. I couldn’t believe I’d killed five tonight. It seemed like only yesterday I’d been hunted by them, unable to look at them, let alone try to fight them. I was different now, though, stronger. Never again would I be prey.
I lathered soap over my body, the citrus blossom scent a welcome reprieve from the stench of the darklings. It was a relief to have the grit and ick leave my body, let the warmth ease the soreness. Steam filled the room, heat filling my lungs, and I stood there for a moment, embracing the feeling of being clean once again.
Calloused fingers snaked around my hips, the feeling sending chills pebbling across my skin. His lips brushed over the back of my shoulder, and my breath hitched in my throat. Air flooded my lungs in a rush as his hand slid up along my ribs, and his thumb brushed the underside of my breast before gliding over them until he reached my neck. His fingers coiled around my throat as he tilted my head back against him. Shivers skittered over my body as he nipped at the shell of my ear, the sharpness of his fangs causing me to inhale sharply. A low laugh vibrated in his chest as he brushed his lips against my skin, before pressing a single kiss to my neck.
Then he released me.
I glared at him over my shoulder, left hot and craving more of his touch.
A wicked grin tugged at his lips. “I want to get clean.”
I rolled my eyes as he threw my own words back at me. “Jerk.”
He didn’t respond, and we showered in silence as I worked the conditioner into my hair. From the corner of my eye, I watched his tense muscles flex and stretch as he rinsed himself. My hand slid free of my hair, and I reached out to him, only to halt before my fingers could touch his back.
Don’t even think about it.
I jerked my hand back and turned my gaze from him, suddenly needing to turn the shower cold as heat flooded me. Despite the need rising, I was exhausted, and though the hot water had soothed much of the tension, I still felt aches in places the heated water couldn’t reach.
Sleep. Sleep would be amazing right now.
I quickly rinsed the conditioner from my hair while he soaped his body, and I turned to step out of the shower. He grabbed my hips before I could, pulling me back against his firm chest, his slick skin.
“I didn’t say you could leave,” he growled in my ear.
If it were possible, I would have become a puddle at his feet.
His hand rose to my neck and tilted my head back against his shoulder as he tasted my skin, tongue gliding up my neck. I struggled to keep myself up, my knees quivering beneath me. He turned me back into the shower, pressing me up against the wall, and I gasped as my breasts met the cold tile.
“Let me help you relax.” His heated whisper poured into my ear, his hands massaging my hips. I moaned when his knee lifted between my thighs, and he pulled my hips back, pressing into that sensitive place I wanted him most.
He released my hips and leaned back, just enough to massage up my back, working at every sore muscle. My body sagged against the wall, back arching, and I groaned as he tended to every ache.
“God, you’re... good with your hands.” I almost couldn’t get the words out.
“Mmmm. That isn’t all I’m good with,” his voice rumbled from his throat as he teased.
If I wasn’t enjoying the massage and so exhausted, I might fall over, I would have told him to show me what else he was good with—his hands, what talents he possessed with those fingers, that wicked tongue, his thick arousal pressed against my ass. My mind wandered through every possibility.
He swept my wet hair over my shoulder and his lips grazed the back of my neck, hands still working down my muscles. My back bowed as he trailed his lips down my spine until I was throbbing.
The shower rained down over us, the water’s touch mixing with his until my body was twitching, lungs gasping for the oxygen evading me. His hand slid down around to the front of my waist, down my stomach—down and down, farther until his fingers glided over that space between my thighs, begging for his touch. I would have collapsed had it not been for him holding me there against the wall.
Take me. God, take me now.
