The badass who made that jump her bitch
I chuckle and spot another one plastered to the wall near the bathroom.
Tonight was rough. You were somber at the end. Maybe I was too. I’ve allotted us each twenty minutes to mope. Then, you need to get your sweet ass in here and fuck me.
XO,
The naked one in the tub
I cherish all her notes, but these are especially apropos with whatI have planned.
She’s submerged beneath a tub of bubbles when I step into the bathroom, her head propped against a spa pillow, her hair spun into a messy knot, eyes shut as she hums along to a song trilling from her phone. Her bag of butterscotch candy rests on the flat seat behind her—the telltale sign of her distress.
After twisting the shower on full blast to muffle some of the noise in a move of extra precaution—even though I thoroughly swept our bathroom and bedroom for any transmitters when we got home—I sit on the edge, dip my hand in the warm water, and trickle my fingers over her. Beginning with a trail up her long, silky legs, dipping into the apex of her thighs to lightly graze her pussy, scratching over the flat plane of her stomach and ribs, and emerging in the valley between her magnificent tits.
It’s astounding to me how she’s become such an anchor, quieting the racket in my mind. Maybe it was always that way. I just didn’t permit myself to bask in the peace she provided, always maintaining enough distance between us so I wouldn’t fuck up and cross that line. I’m still convinced plundering the tranquility from her is among my greatest sins. But now, I don’t know how I survived without her. She told me she’d keep us afloat, and I didn’t believe her, but she’s doing it. One note, one touch, one smile at a time.
I tweak her nipples and jostle the bars the way she likes.
Her lips hike up in a lazy grin, and those gorgeous hazels finally pop open. “Miss me, sailor? Come to take what’s yours?”
All mine.
“Sometimes, I miss you even when you’re with me,” I admit. An urgent need to share everything surges through my veins.
She slides her hand over mine in the water, securing both to her breast, but returns her gaze to me. “Why is that? What’s going on up there?”
“As soon as I touch you, my head quiets. My head hasn’t been quiet for …” My breath shudders out with the truth I’m offering—she’ll never understand what a miracle she is. “Not since that night.”
“I get that,” she breathes, her eyes dulling for a brief beat before she widens them in an attempt to conceal it. “Mine has been busy too. Not in the same way, but … everyone has always protected me, which makes sense because I’m the youngest. The only girl. We lost our parents. It’s been a lot. But all I’ve ever wanted was to be the person who was strong enough to hold others’ burdens, who brightened the day, the one who people could turn to.” She swallows and rolls her lips together. “You’re not the only one healing here, Ty. The way you’ve let me in, your nickname for me—it’s everything. And the way you guys have allowed me to stand beside you instead of behind you, means more than I can say.”
It seems we’re both reflective after the intensity of our evening.
“Good.” My fingers cruise lower, roaming back between her thighs to circle her clit in a teasing rollick. “That’s all I want, to be your safe place. So, you’re okay? Nothing weighing on you from tonight?”
She shakes her head, peering at the foamy water, but the arduous roll of her throat screams that she’s uncomfortable, and since her thighs have fallen open further, it has nothing to do with what my fingers are working on. “A little nervous about tomorrow, I guess. But two down, so I’d prefer to only think about that. Almost done.”
“There’s nothing more you want to talk about?” I probe while perusing her opening. “You got scared on that roof.”
She situates her head on the pillow, gripping on to any relaxation she can gather, her eyelids fluttering closed again. “You already asked me about that. No point in replaying all the nonsense from tonight. It’s over. Let’s live in the moment.” A wispy purr sails past her lips. “I’m loving this moment.”
Avoidance.Could be pain or fear. Could be she’s hidingsomething. My gut churns. I’m betting on the latter. And although she wouldn’t spill openly if it was something she needed kept private—in case we have listening ears—I instructed her in the truck to simply use her eyes to alert me to the need for a covert discussion. So, closing them effectively shuts it all down.
“Every second with you is a gift.” My fingers plunge and flick and swirl until her lips are parted, her chest is heaving, and I know she’s teetering on the edge, dazed enough by the sensations that I might procure an opening. “But we can’t ignore the reality of our circumstances. The next job could be a lot worse. You’re good to continue?”
Her thick lashes flit upward, her features instantly stony, orgasm abandoned. “There is no other option but to go on.”
Everything I said outside rings through that statement. She doesn’t care what we’re trudging into; she’ll risk her life for her brothers without hesitation. Aside from how shattered her soul would be if she let them down—that’s a compelling reason to continue. How could we do anything other than support her unwavering loyalty? There is no greater character trait.
So, I remove my hand, lean over, clutch her chin, and kiss her forehead. “Of course that’s what we’ll do.” Shifting to the flat seating area behind her, I unravel her hair, letting it cascade in a matted mess below her shoulders as I reach for her shampoo. “I’m going to wash your hair, fuck you senseless, cook you a good meal, and put you to bed. That’s all you need to think about right now.”
She rolls her face up to me, beaming, eyes twinkling, with a smile that illuminates the whole damn world. “I like that plan. You gonna sleep with your big ol’ dick inside me tonight?”
“Always, baby girl. Sit up a little.” I use the faucet attachment to warm up the water and wet her hair. Squirting a dollop of her berry-scented shampoo into my palm, I lather up her tresses, working it into her scalp with slow, kneading strokes from her temples to the base of her skull to alleviate her stress.
She moans, pressing against my fingers. “Jesus, Ty. Where the fuck did you learn to do this? You know what? Never mind.” She flaps her hand in the air, spraying bubbles and droplets of water all over my lap and the floor. “If it was from a woman, don’t tell me.”
A melancholy chuckle tumbles from my lips, masking the emotion lodged in my throat. “It was from a woman, but one I wish you knew. She would have loved you. My mom was a hairdresser.”
