“Stay here,” he says, turning to look at me. “You’re covered in blood. I don’t want anyone to see you like this. I’ll get us a room.”
I nod again, too tired to argue. I watch as Hayes gets out of the car and heads inside, his silhouette framed by the first light of dawn. I lean back in my seat, closing my eyes for another moment, trying to block out the images of the night—the fire, the screams, the feeling of Liliana’s cold, dead grip around my chest. I still can’t shake the sense that something is watching me, that we’re not safe yet.
Minutes pass, and I force myself to open my eyes, scanning the parking lot. A few other cars are parked nearby, but there’s no sign of anyone else. I shift in my seat, my arm throbbing painfully. I hope I don’t need stitches.
Hayes returns with a key in hand. He opens my door, gently helping me out. “Our room is on the second floor,” he says quietly. “Let’s go. We need to clean you up and rest.”
I nod, leaning on him for support as we make our way across the parking lot and up the stairs to our room. The door clicks open, and we step inside. The room smells freshly cleaned, all pine trees and lemons.
Hayes locks the door behind us and gently leads me to the bathroom. He turns on the bathtub faucet, pouring an entire mini bottle of soap into the running water. Bubbles rise, and the scent of vanilla fills the room, warm and comforting. “Let’s get you cleaned up,” he murmurs softly, his hands tender as he carefully peels the bloody T-shirt away from my skin. I wince as the fabric sticks to the cut on my arm, and he pauses, concern flickering in his eyes. I press my dirty palms against my eyes, fighting back tears.
He moves slowly, unbuckling my jeans and sliding them down my legs. I step out of them, feeling the cool air against my bare skin. Hayes is patient, his touch careful and calming. I lift my foot over the side of the tub and step into the water. It’s hot—almost scalding—just the way I like it. Perfect. I crouch down, lowering myself into the bath, feeling the heat envelop me,sinking into my bones. I dip my head back beneath the surface, letting the water rush over me, washing away the blood, the dirt, the fear.
I stay under until my lungs begin to burn, then slowly rise, breaking the surface with a deep, gasping breath. The warmth of the water surrounds me, and for a moment, I feel weightless, free.
Hayes moves to the side of the tub, his touch tender as he begins to wash my shoulders, his hands moving in slow, soothing circles. The soft vanilla soap glides over my skin, and the water feels like silk, a gentle caress that eases the tension from my muscles. His fingers work the lather into my skin, massaging away the grime and the pain. The water turns pink with blood.
His touch moves lower, gliding down my arms, across my collarbone. He reaches for more soap, lathering it over my breasts, his fingers light but firm. The moment the soap brushes over my nipples, they harden into tight, achy points. A shiver runs through me, and I clutch the rim of the tub, my breath catching in my throat.
I swallow back a moan and clench my thighs together to relieve the sudden sharp spasm of need. What kind of horrible person am I to be aroused right now? After all that’s happened. I squeeze my eyes shut when he cups a whole breast, silky and slippery with soap. His touch is soft, he’s trying to be gentle, but my body wants more, and my back arches slightly to press against him more firmly. He pauses, his breath hot and heavy against my ear, sending a wave of desire straight through me and pulsing between my thighs. His soapy hands glide up to my throat, and I open my eyes, meeting his intense gaze.
“My whole body aches,” I whisper.
“With pain?” he asks softly.
“With need,” I reply.
“There’s my girl,” he murmurs, his voice thick with desire. His hand around my neck tightens slightly as he leans in, dragging his lips across mine. My hands lose their grip on the edges of the tub when his tongue slides deliciously into my mouth.
He loosens his grip on my neck, and I let out a small cry. “I’ll take care of you,” he whispers.
“You don’t hate me for what happened, I—” I begin, my voice shaky.
“We’re lucky to be alive, Tor," he interrupts gently. "And I’ve never felt more alive than when I’m deep inside you.” His hand slides down between my breasts and over my stomach, slipping beneath the water. “So, I’m going to celebrate being alive, every fucking day, if you let me. Okay?” His fingers reach the top of my mound, stopping just above my clit, pressing down firmly. A wave of pleasure ripples through me.
“Yes,” I murmur, more in a plea than answer.
I spread my legs wide, resting my knees on both sides of the tub as he slips his fingers inside me. “Fuuuck,” I gasp, letting my head fall back against the cool, tiled wall.His fingers move in slow, deep strokes, his thumb circling firmly against my clit. A small pinprick of pleasure blooms, spreading out and spiraling through my core. My needy pussy bucks up as his thrusts get faster, desperate for release. His fingers pump and stroke until I’m trembling. My legs kick out, hitting the drain release, and I feel the water begin to lower.
My pussy feels almost swollen, aching and oversensitive. “I need more, Hayes.”
“You want my cock?” he asks.
“That question will always have a yes answer from me.”
He slips his fingers out of me and I moan at the sudden emptiness.
“Come on, stand up,” he says, his voice low.“Let’s get the rest of you clean. Make sure that cut is taken care of, too.”
“What?” I protest. “What happened to putting your cock in me?”
He chuckles softly, turning on the showerhead. “Give me five more minutes to wash the rest of the blood off you, and then I’ll fuck you any way you want. I promise.”
I groan but step under the spray, the hot water cascading over me. He works shampoo into my hair, his fingers massaging my scalp, then carefully washes the rest of my body, his touch gentle yet thorough. The water runs red at first, swirling down the drain, but soon it circles clear.
I turn off the shower as the last dregs of soap swirl down the drain. Hayes unfolds a towel and gently pats my hair dry before draping it around my shoulders.
I shrug it off, letting it fall to the floor.
