“We need to get cleaned up,” Hazel said after a while. “I can still feel it on my skin.”
The shower in the cabin was barely big enough for one person, let alone two, but they managed. Marcus turned the water as hot as it would go, steam immediately billowing up to fog the mirror and paint the small bathroom in white condensation.
“In,” he said, helping her step over the edge of the ancient claw-foot tub.
Hazel tipped her head back, letting the hot water cascade over her face and hair, feeling the last traces of tainted energy disappear down the drain.
When she opened her eyes, Marcus was still standing outside the shower curtain, watching her through the gap with an expression that made her breath catch. His eyes were dark andhungry, but there was something else there too, like she was something precious he couldn’t quite believe he was allowed to touch.
“Are you coming in or just planning to stare?” she asked, her voice coming out rougher than intended.
“Can’t I do both?” But he stepped in behind her, and the space was so tight they were immediately pressed together, her back to his chest, his arms coming around her waist automatically. “I almost lost you today.”
“But you didn’t.” She covered his hands with hers, lacing their fingers together. “You saved me. Again.”
“We saved each other.” His lips found her shoulder, kissing the wet skin with aching tenderness. “I saw everything, Hazel. Everything you’ve been through. Every time someone rejected you. Every time they made you feel like you were too much or not enough or, ”
“And you saw Eliza,” she interrupted softly, turning in his arms to face him. Water streamed between them, making his dark hair plaster against his forehead. “Saw what you’ve been carrying all these years. The guilt. The nightmares.”
“Yeah.” His throat worked, Adam’s apple bobbing. “And you’re still here.”
“Of course I’m still here.” She cupped his face, thumbs tracing his sharp cheekbones. “Marcus, seeing your pain doesn’t make me love you less. It makes me understand why you’re so protective. Why you panic when I do something reckless. Why you can’t lose another person you, ”
She stopped, the words catching in her throat.
“Another person I love?” Marcus finished quietly, his dark eyes searching hers. “Is that what you were going to say?”
Hazel could only nod, her heart hammering so hard she was sure he could feel it against his chest.
“Good,” Marcus said, and pulled her into a kiss that stole what little breath she had left.
This wasn’t like their earlier kisses, soft and exploring, learning each other. His tongue swept into her mouth, claiming, and his hands slid down to grip her ass, pulling her flush against him.
She could feel him hardening against her stomach. Her own arousal pooled low in her belly, a heat that had nothing to do with the shower spray.
“Let me take care of you,” Marcus said against her lips, voice rough. “Please. I need to. Need to feel you safe and whole and mine.”
“Yes,” she breathed.
He grabbed the cheap motel soap from the dish, the kind that smelled like industrial cleaning supplies and probably stripped all the natural oils from your skin. He worked it into a lather between his palms.
Then those hands were on her.
He started with her shoulders, kneading the tension from muscles she hadn’t realised were knotted until he found them. His thumbs dug into the small of her back as he worked his way down, slow and deliberate. He missed a spot near her shoulder blade, came back for it; his hands weren’t rehearsed, just wanting. When he reached the small of her back, his palms splayed wide, nearly spanning her waist.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmured, almost to himself.
“Marcus, ”
“Let me.” His soapy hands slid around to her stomach, pulling her back against his chest.Worship.Only Marcus Hawthorne could make a word like that sound like a legal brief. She could feel every hard plane of him, chest, abs, the thick length of him pressing into her lower back. “Just for a minute.”
His hands moved up to cup her breasts, and Hazel’s head fell back against his shoulder, a moan escaping before she could stop it. His thumbs circled her nipples.
“So responsive,” Marcus murmured, his lips finding the spot behind her ear.
“Then keep touching me and stop narrating,” Hazel managed, even as her hips rolled back against him.
He laughed, low and dark and absolutely wrecked. “Bossy witch.”
