Ironic?
Hell, yeah.
I was being a hypocrite. Men in my past had asked, some even demanded, that I put my job on the back burner and make our relationship a priority. No, that wasn’t completely honest. They wanted me to makethemthe main concern in my life. When I refused, the relationship quickly ended.
“Are you really doing this?” I asked when Brutus lowered me to the floor to stand in the middle of his bathroom. The bathroom in his massive master bedroom. I became too preoccupied with the room around us to listen to his answer to my question.
The bathroom was almost as large as the bedroom. At the center sat a ginormous, chrome, free-standing bathtub. Seriously, the thing looked almost big enough to do a damn lap in. The black marble tile spread throughout the flooring of the bathroom. On the far wall, about six feet beyond the bathtub was a chrome shower system mounted to the wall and overhead.
The flooring transitioned from tile to stone resin that dipped down at the center towards a drain. The design was a doorless shower to minimize water spray but not for privacy.
“Seriously?” I spun around, watching Brutus, who was now shirtless.
He approached with a wrinkle in his brow. “Care to elaborate?” he asked at the same time he reached for the waistband of my shirt.
Mindlessly, I lifted my arms, allowing him to undress me. “You went to Mexico for a vacation when you have a bathroom like this?” I glanced around the glorious room again before my eyes landed on him. “If I owned a bathroom like this, I would never leave.”
Brutus went entirely still. He looked as if I’d sucked all the air out of the room. I replayed my words again, trying to figure out what I’d said to garner that reaction. I couldn’t figure it out.
“You don’t have to leave.” His voice was low but there was an earnestness in them that I couldn’t shake.
Despite the seriousness in his tone, I laughed like he’d made a joke. Because that’s what it had to be.
Brutus’ lips pinched, but he went about the task of undressing the both of us. He turned on the shower, and of course, the water pressure was perfect.
Naked, I stepped into the spray of the water. A groan broke free from my lips. The stress of the long travel day melted away underneath the tepid water. A beat later, I felt warmth at my back as Brutus stepped into the shower.
I spun to face him. “I want to wash you,” I said. I went to grab the washcloth from Brutus’ hand but he held it firm.
His eyes narrowed. “This is my job. Turn around,” he commanded with such authority in his voice that my nipples ached.
I folded my arms across my breast. I didn’t miss the way his eyes sparked in hunger when they fell to my boobs.
“What if I want to wash you?”
He shook his head, his eyes continuing to remain on my chest. His tongue ran along his bottom lip, and I had to squeeze my legs, making myself ignore the hungry expression on his face.
“You just got home from hours of travel after having to spend an extra night in a foreign city. Let me do this for you,” he insisted.
“But you just returned from having to search for a lost child.” I tried to pull the washcloth from him, but he wasn’t budging. “You were working. You need to relax.”
He gave his head a shake. “Washing you is relaxing for me. Turn around,” he ordered. That time he didn’t wait for me to listen. With his massive hands on my shoulders, he turned my back to face him, and began lathering up my body.
A piece of me wanted to protest, but his hands moving slowly up and down my back, soaking me, was the undoing of my argument.
“You’re tight, baby,” he murmured in my ear.
My pussy muscles flexed. I peered at him over my shoulder with a side-eye.
“Your back and neck muscles,” he added slyly.
“I knew that’s what you meant,” I lied. My breathing hitched when he pinched one of my cheeks.
“Sure you did,” he said firmly in my ear. “But for the record,that’stight too,” he crooned.
A flush ran through my skin as my body heated. The first night we’d spent together in Mexico flashed through my mind.
I shook my head to rid my mind of those thoughts. Despite him telling me that bathing me was relaxing, I wanted to ensure he was okay. A haunted look had been in his eyes when he returned home.
