With a satisfied smirk, he dips his head and presses his lips against my bare shoulder.
“Thank fuck,” he rumbles, pleased that he’s the only one who’s ever touched me like this. “Saves me from having to kill anyone.”
Before I can tell him how ridiculous that is, he takes the bar of soap from my hands. “Gimme that.”
He lathers up his body quickly before turning his attention to me. I hold my breath as he runs his soapy hands across my shoulders, down my arms, and over my breasts.
“Journey.” The moment feels intimate, more so than last night somehow. Last night was heat and passion, but this is something else.
“I got you, princess,” he hums, pressing his face into the crook of my neck and sucking on the flesh.
“I need to wash my hair,” I breathe, leaning my head to the side to give him more room.
I feel him smile against the flesh. “You sure that’s what you want to do?”
My cheeks heat. “No.”
He grunts and lifts his head, his eyes blazing.
Suddenly feeling shy, I grab his 2-in-1 shampoo from the ledge and squeeze a dollop into my palm. I quickly wash my hair and rinse, then squirt some more shampoo into my hands, lift onto my toes, and start working the lather through his short dark strands.
Maybe it’s silly, but I want to take care of him the way he’s taking care of me.
His eyes darken as I massage his scalp.
“Lean back,” I instruct softly.
He complies, tilting his head back into the spray of water. I watch as the suds run down his sculpted body. Holy hotness. My mouth waters looking at him.
Feeling emboldened, I trace my hands down his chest and wrap my fingers around his hard length. “I don’t know what to do,” I whisper honestly.
Journey wraps his hand around mine and tightens my grip. “Like this,” he says roughly, showing me the pressure he likes. I stroke him from root to tip, and his breathing picks up. “Yeah, baby. Just like that.”
I bite my bottom lip, continuing to stroke him, mesmerized by his reactions—the way his jaw clenches, the flex of muscles in his stomach, the almost pained look on his face.
He props one hand against the shower wall above my head, leaning into my touch. “Fuck.”
I’ve never felt more powerful in my life than I do right now, watching this strong, dangerous man come undone under my touch.
“Spread your legs.” He nudges my legs with knee.
I shift my stance and his free hand slides between my legs, fingers parting my folds and dipping inside.
My breath catches as he strokes me, his thumb circling my clit in the exact way that had me seeing stars last night.
We work each other to a fever pitch, the tension building and building until we both tumble over the edge into ecstacy.
When my breathing finally slows, a shiver racks down my spine. “Holy crap the water is cold.”
“Shit,” Journey mutters, reaching past me to turn off the tap.
“Come on.” Yanking the shower curtain open, he steps out onto the bath mat, grabs a towel, and wraps it around his narrow hips before handing me one.
“Thanks.” I take it gratefully, wrapping it around my body as I watch him move to the sink and grab his toothbrush.
I dry off as he brushes his teeth, trying not to stare at his reflection in the mirror. When he finishes, he strolls out of the bathroom without a backward glance, like this is part of our normal routine. It’s really…weird.
Feeling a bit like a creeper, I peek around the doorframe to watch him pull out a pair of dark jeans and a black t-shirt from his dresser.
