“If you’d simply accept the help you were offered, I wouldn’t have to be bossy,” Roman chided as he turned the faucet on.
I watched him dip his fingers into the streaming water, testing the temperature with careful precision.
“I could say the same for you,” I muttered.
He glanced at me from the corner of his eye, but he didn’t argue.
When the water was to his liking, he lifted the ornate shower head from its cradle and flipped the small lever to redirect the flow. The shower head sputtered to life.
Roman balanced himself on the edge of the tub.
“Lean your head back,” he instructed.
I took a deep breath, brushed all my hair behind me so it fell into the basin, and leaned my neck against the soft towel he’d draped over the rim. I stared up at the ceiling, my fingers fiddling with the hem of my cardigan as much as they could without sending pain through my palms.
I flinched when the warm spray touched my scalp.
“Too hot?” Roman asked, his voice close to my ear.
“No,” I managed. “It’s good.”
Roman hummed approvingly and continued to soak my hair, moving the spray steadily. His fingers slid through the damp strands, making sure they were thoroughly wet.
I had to suppress another shiver.
The sensation of his hands in my hair felt so intimate. He wasn’t rushed or rough. He was careful.
The bathroom filled with the soft hiss of water and the thrum of my pulse rushing in my ears. His fingers combed through my hair, slower this time, untangling the knots.
“You don’t have to clench your jaw like that,” he murmured.
I hadn’t even realized I was doing it.
“I’m not,” I lied.
A quiet, low sound—almost a laugh—rumbled in his chest. “You are.”
His fingertips brushed the base of my skull as he adjusted the spray, and a tremor moved through me before I could stop it.
He stilled for a moment, but then reached for the shampoo bottle on the floor. “Close your eyes.”
I did.
I heard the soft squeeze of the bottle, then his hands returned as he worked the shampoo into my scalp.
The world narrowed to his touch and the constant sound of water.
His fingers digging into my scalp almost made a moan slip past my lips. I wasn’t sure anyone had ever washed my hair before, and it was…incredible.
My head tipped back even farther, but he cradled it in his large, steady hands. His nails gently scratched my scalp, causing tingles to spread down my spine, fanning out across my shoulders and into my chest.
Oh.
It felt so good.
The familiar scent of my tea tree shampoo filled my nose. The clean scent mixed with Roman’s muskier aroma, creating something almost intoxicating. My body finally seemed to understand that it was safe and I released a sigh, all tension leaving me with it.
“Finally,” he said, sounding pleased.
