“Okay,” I agreed instantly, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “I’ll have Johns come get it or bring it tomorrow.”
“Thank you,” she whispered.
“You okay if I put you down?”
She nodded, and I released her, slowly sliding her down my body until she was on her feet. Then I turned to the nook built into the wall and grabbed the bottle of her shampoo, filled my palm, and lathered it together.
“Turn around,” I demanded, and she obeyed, tipping her head back to let me work the shampoo through the strands at her scalp.
Sutton sagged against me, and I smiled. I loved taking care of her like this, loved having her soft, warm, and pliant in my arms.For a long time, I never thought I’d have this, where I couldn’t imagine it with anyone else and didn’t think Sutton and I would be able to find our way back to each other.
I was fuckingthrilledto be wrong.
Once I completed my scalp massage, she stepped under the showerhead and rinsed, then came back so I could work the conditioner through her length.
Thanks to her, I now knew way more about the correct hair washing and conditioning technique than I ever needed. Like how youonlyshampooed the scalp and let the water carry the suds through the ends when you rinsed, or how you applied conditioner at the ends then worked any leftover product through the midpoint up to the scalp.
Sutton also preferred to let her conditioner sit while she scrubbed her body, so I grabbed the large claw clip we also kept in here and swept the entire bundle off her neck, twisting it and securing it at the crown of her skill.
My girl also didn’t use one of your traditional loofahs. Apparently, they were no better than a petri dish, growing bacteria, so she used something called an African net sponge. I squeezed a healthy portion of her favorite body wash on it, worked it between my hands until a mountain of suds appeared, and went to work. There wasn’t anything sexual about bathing Sutton. I merely wanted to take care of her, wanted to do whatever I could to keep her here with me, lest she surrender to the shadows in her amber eyes. Starting at her shoulders, I worked down one arm, then the other. Over her chest to her stomach. Bending and propping one foot up on my thigh to scrub her leg and foot, which elicited a small giggle when I tickled her arch. I repeated the process on the other side before gently sliding the sponge between her thighs, clearing away any evidence of our earlier joining.
Straightening, I reached up and removed the clip from her hair, then gently directed her back under the water. While she rinsed, I quickly washed myself, my own routine taking a fraction of the time hers did, before joining her. I settled my hands on her hips lightly, and she wrapped her arms around my waist, tilting her head back to rest her chin in her favorite spot between my pecs.
“I love you,” she said.
“I love you more,” I replied, bending to kiss her nose, then her mouth. “Take as long as you need. I’m gonna get out and call Johns.”
She nodded and let me go.
Dressing quickly and laying out some of my sweats for Sutton, I swiped my phone off my nightstand, but before I could make the call, my doorbell rang.
When I opened the front door, I blinked in surprise. “Damn,” I said to Johns. “It’s like you read my mind.”
He raised a brow. “Oh?”
“I was just about to call you to have you take a trip out,” I explained, then stepped aside to admit him. “I’ve got something for you.”
“Alright,” he said.
There was nothing outwardly strange about the word or his tone, of course, but you didn’t get as far as I did in life, or become as successful as I had at my job, by being oblivious to subtle tells.
Something was off with Johns. I could tell by the way he refused to meet my eyes, instead letting his gaze settle on everything within sightbutme.
He’d been to my house numerous times before and headed for the living room, but he didn’t take a seat like he normally would have.
“Is Sutton here?” he asked.
“Yes…”
“I need to speak to both of you.”
“Okay, sure. I’ll get her.”
Unease pricked at my neck as I turned my back on him and headed for the bathroom. Sutton still stood under the water, face tipped up, her body a hazy silhouette through the fogged glass.
“Sunny,” I called, and she moved, albeit slowly, to poke her head out. “Johns is here. Says he needs to talk to us.”
“Okay,” she said quietly, and a moment later, the water turned off.
