“Here we are.”
I deposited her on the toilet lid and set about running water into the tub.
“Looks like you’re pretty good at this. You give a lot of women a bath?”
Not even looking at her, I ran my hand under the spout, testing the water. “Oh, I’m good at filling a bath…for me. Clearly, you’ve never worked a full day on a farm.”
“Can’t say that I’ve ever—”
“Can’t say that I’ve recently either, but filling a tub is like riding a bike. Now strip.”
“Seriously? A little privacy maybe?”
“Claire, you’re hurt. You need me to make sure you don’t fall again.”
“Likely story, farm boy.”
“I’m waiting.”
I stood and watched her lift her arms up, but I couldn’t wait…my fingers twisted in the soft cotton, grabbing a handful of fabric and lifting off her shirt, revealing a nude-colored lace bra and the most supple tits I’d ever seen.
She looked down, and I refused to let her. With my finger under her chin, I brought our gazes back together. Mine had to be searing. My flesh was running hot, my blood pumping at an alarming rate. Mentally reminding myself this wasn’t sensual, I told Claire to stand up.
She did, and I ran my hand down the side of her rib cage, my thumb lingering in a few spots. With my hands on the edge of her jean shorts, I traced my way to the front, unbuttoning the top button, sliding down the zipper, and cupping her ass while sliding them off. A matching pair of nude boy shorts stole my focus. My Adam’s apple rippled as I swallowed.
“I got it from here,” Claire whispered, bringing her forearm to cover her breasts as she unhooked her bra with the other arm.
“Come on, I’m one of the good guys.” I held her elbow as she slipped out of her underwear before I walked her over to the tub. “In you go.” I held steady while she put one foot and then the other in.
Before I shut the water off, I tossed in a few bath salts I saw on the shelf, trying to focus on their fizzing and not the beautiful woman in front of me. I was burning hard, and my jeans dug into every part of me, making it impossible to get comfortable. I turned, adjusted myself, and sat on the toilet lid.
“Lie back, close your eyes.”
Surprisingly, she did. “I can’t believe I just got naked in front of you. I’m going to need wine. Didn’t you promise some?” The words were mumbled in between sighs.
“So, you like this idea of me bathing you? You think you can keep from drowning while I go fetch it for you?”
“Hmmm,” was all I made out as I stood to go grab the wine, thinking it was an opportunity to toss an ice cube down my pants.
In the kitchen, I spent a few extra seconds standing in front of an open fridge and freezer. Admittedly, I was succumbing to tactics from my teen years, but I needed to get a grip.
With wineglass in hand, I returned to the bathroom and found a resting, peaceful Claire. Eyes closed, mouth set straight, skin dewy, hair pulled back. She was gorgeous, and something about the pain she suffered tugged at my heart. Maybe because I knew loss too—not like hers—but loss nonetheless.
“There he is. My knight in shining armor,” she said with one eye cracked open, droopy smile across her face.
“I brought the good stuff.”
Taking a sip, she said, “Yes, you did.”
Settled next to her on the edge of the tub, I gathered some water in my hand and dripped it down her chest. Her skin pebbled, and her nipples peeked out from the water. “I want to tell you how stunning you are. Every fiber of me wants to delve into a long explanation of what I would do to you…with my hands, my tongue, my…God, Claire. I’m burning so hot for you. You have no idea.”
“Aiken…”
“But I knew you’d stop me, interrupt me, so I’ll say this. I have a crush on you, Claire Richards. A bona fide crush. A grown man like melikelikes a grown woman like you, like we are in high school, but we’re not. We’re adults, as I remind you of often. I want to make you happy in every way. Physical, emotional, and physical all over again. And you’re going to let me one day soon.”
“I’m not some young chippy.”
“Hush, drink your wine, and relax.”
She did, and I watched, cupping water in my palm and allowing my fingers close enough to drizzle it on her. When she was done, out she came into a towel I had waiting.
“Hungry?” I asked, and she shook her head.
“Sleepy,” she whispered. “Been sleepy for so long. Miss my Abby.”
With her wrapped in a robe, I held her waist tight all the way to her bed, where I lay on top of the covers after she crawled under. With her head on my chest, I decided my shitkickers looked good next to her bed.
