I walked off, staggering toward my bedroom. "Just do what you're told to do."
I needed to shower. My energy was sort of drained. Trecee and her nonstop complaining had worn me out. She'd been blowing up my phone all day—texting, calling, leaving voicemails. All of them said the same shit:Where are you? Why aren't you answering? We need to talk.
But I felt the need to kiss Synthia's ass instead. To make her smile. To pull her out of whatever funk she was in.
Trecee nagged about shit that didn't matter all the time, and I wasn't feeding into her bullshit anymore. Our conversations weren't regular, and the topics she discussed were shit that pissed her off. She was bitching about being anti-babysitting her sisters and brothers—complaining that they were cramping her style, that she had plans.
I'd silenced her calls and messages because I needed this time to myself. To relax. To focus on Synthia.
Feeling the hot water rain down my body, I got relaxed quick. I stood still, in no rush, and bent my head under the nozzle, letting the water beat against my scalp, my shoulders, my back. The heat loosened the tension in my muscles, and I closed my eyes, letting out a long breath.
Then I heard it.
The shower door opening.
I glanced over, my eyes turning to slits, and saw Synthia standing there—butt-ass naked. Her small hand was wrapped around the door handle as she pulled the glass door open and stepped inside.
Her pretty white French-tip toes touched the wet marble floors first, and she shivered from the cold air rushing in,slapping against both of our bodies. Then she closed the door, sealing us in together.
My eyes traveled up slowly—deliberately. From her delicate toes, to her thick thighs, to her bald pussy, to her soft stomach with that little pooch I loved, to her pebbled nipples, to her face.
Her hair was pulled up in a curly bun, but there were a few loose strands around the perimeter of her head. The steam from the water caused them to get damp and drop, clinging to her skin.
Her chest was heaving up and down rapidly, and I knew immediately—she was nervous.
"Whatchu' doin'?" I asked, screwing up my face in mock confusion.
"In the shower with you. What does it look like I'm doing?" She tried to sound confident, but I heard the slight tremor in her voice.
"Yeah, I know that, smart ass." I reached out and thumped her gently across the forehead with my middle finger. "You ain't got to be in here."
She simmered down, her tough exterior cracking. "But I want to be."
Those four words—I want to be—hit different.
Ignoring her for a moment, I turned my head back around and dipped it under the water, allowing it to cascade down my body and back. The hot water felt like needles prickling at my skin, but I wouldn't dare add coolness to it, even if Synthia mentioned it.
Then I felt it.
A towel gliding across my back, followed by thick liquid—body wash. It took a millisecond for me to realize what was happening.
Synthia was washing my back.
My eyes shot open, but I didn't turn around. I stood there, frozen, feeling her small hands work over my skin. One hand held the towel, scrubbing gently. The other kneaded my shoulders, my back, squeezing the knots away.
"You ain't got to do this." Irritation seeped from my tone, but it wasn't directed at her. It was directed at myself—at the fact that I didn't know how to accept this type of tenderness. "I ain't forcing you to do this shit."
"I know what I do and don't have to do," she said softly. "You don't have to tell me that. But I want to do this. Just relax and take a deep breath."
A low sigh escaped from my mouth as her hands continued their work. I couldn't help but release groans of satisfaction because it felt so fucking good. But this type of treatment was a stranger to me. I felt vulnerable—exposed in a way that had nothing to do with being naked.
She was washing my sins away. My stress. My anger. My pain.
It was therapeutic. A kind gesture I didn't deserve but desperately needed.
"You have to know that you deserve this type of stuff too, Romelo," her soft voice said, knocking me out of my thoughts.
"Not from no hard body like you," I chuckled a little, trying to deflect. "You don't fuck wit' me, Synthia. You're just forced to put up with my bullshit because I'm forcing you to."
