I reach for her hand, taking us inside the bedroom, closing the door.
CHAPTER 24
The minute the door closes, we both detonate. Like sex is the only thing that will prove we’re alive, it’s done, and this is real.
I back her against the wall, taking her mouth, as she undoes her jeans and shoves them down her hips.
Part of me is screaming to put the brakes on this. It could go horribly wrong.
The other part is already ten steps ahead.
“Can I get these bandages wet?” She asks, suddenly looking at her wrists.
“I’ll put fresh ones on.” I kiss the inside of her arm, move my mouth to her neck. “Take your shirt off.”
She does, but when it’s free, she asks, “You can do anything, can’t you?”
The way she’s looking at me physically hurts. Trust. It’s right there in the depths of her blue eyes. After all of it. She wants me, trusts me, is giving herself to me again.
“I cannot play a single instrument. Can’t really sing. I also can’t keep my hands off of you.”
“The last one is the best.”
Finally she smiles, and it throws me for a loop.
“Do you like the sound of this?” I lean right next to her ear as my hand drifts down to lace her fingers with mine. “Me making love to you in the shower?”
“I do,” she whispers, tracing her other hand up my chest.
I flip the clasp on her bra, letting it fall away as I fill my palm with her breast.
She takes care of her panties. We tear my clothes off and then I slow everything down.
Way down.
Taking my time kissing her throat, her nipples, the bruises and scrapes, worshiping her strength. Returning to her mouth, over and over again, where she drives me crazy with the way she uses her tongue.
I blindly turn on the shower, pulling her toward the glass doorway. When the steam starts to rise, I pick her up and carry her inside as she drops kisses along my jaw.
For a few minutes we kiss under the spray, until I force her to turn around so I can pamper her.
She hums as I work the shampoo through slowly, careful not to tug. When I find the right rhythm, Jade leans back into my hands, sighing softly.
“Close your eyes,” I murmur as I rinse gently, shielding her face, then reach for the soap.
There’s no hurry. Unlimited hot water. Just us, alone. A secure house full of badass operatives.
So I go slow. I kneel in front of her, running my soapy hands carefully down her legs, over the bruises, the dirt still clinging in places.
Every touch makes my heart squeeze up, twisting against my collarbone until I can hardly breathe.
She did so good. Her body has to be wrecked. Muscles spent from all the hard hiking. Bruises from the crash and god knows what else.
I’m endlessly impressed by this woman.
When I rise and look down at her, she’s gorgeous. Always beautiful but with the water clinging along her lashes, the gentle curve of lips damp and parted, the effect is devastating.
But the bruising on her face reminds me to keep myself in check. Give her all the choices.
