Heart in her throat, but with hunger still heating in her belly, she bent down over him. Instead of going right for his neck, however, she moved higher. Not fully taking his mouth in hers, she brushed her lips against his, teasing him, just a little, but also reveling in his taste.
“I think this might be cheating,” he murmured, closing his eyes even as he leaned back, his arms falling to the side. She trailed downward until she found the spot, the one she just knew would drive him meshuggeneh. After all, turnaround was fair play.
“Hannah,” Sol whispered as his hips turned beneath her, grinding into her, making her innards turn to molten jelly as she pressed against him. With a groan, he grabbed her hair with one hand, pressing her down as they kissed, while snaking the other around her waist, sending even more delicious tingles through her.
“God, Hannah,” he moaned, throwing his head back, his back arching, raising her off the bed. “God, that’s good.”
With a smile, she pressed her lips together, moving upward, to kiss his jaw. “So good that you’ll admit defeat.”
“I—” he started before a low chuckle rumbledfrom his belly right against hers. He tilted his head and pressed a soft kiss into her forehead. “I’m not sure I’d go that far. It’s against my nature to call this anything but a draw. However, I certainly believe you deserve a bath.”
Sol glanced at Hannah as he rebuttoned his shirt. He was going to have to wear shoes, lest he wind up with feet full of splinters. Not that it would matter in the grand scheme of things, but he wanted to enjoy being the one to make her happy. Enjoy giving her this. Enjoy being the cause of that real smile he was beginning to long for.
Especially as it was clear, given all the responsibilities in his life, that no matter how much wanting to was starting to overtake him, he would not be able to give her much more. The sun would soon rise, she’d leave, and probably never return. And even if seeing her again wouldn’t jeopardize Frederick’s own courtship, even if she’d been a woman of means, he couldn’t go to her. Which, though for the best, made something within his chest ache.
Because he might not know her, at least not well, but he knew she deserved better than this. Better than what he could give her. No matter what she’d done in the past. But this would have to do. Especially after the dreamy look he’d caught on her usually cynical face when she ran her fingers over the edge of the tub. He just couldn’t deny her.
“Now?” She squeaked as she adjusted her skirts back over her legs. “I’m going to have a bath now?” She peeked over her shoulder at the tub and back at him.
“Now is as good a time as any, is it not?” He reached over and smoothed her tightly pinned braids. Oh, what he would give to truly run his fingers through her hair. He stroked her cheek. God, if only.
“I suppose.” She bit her lip and glanced toward the door. “But won’t you…”
“Wake the household?” He shrugged as he slid off the bed, adjusting his delightfully mangled garments. “Not if I do it right.”
“You?” She wrinkled her nose. “What do you mean, you?” She crawled to the edge of the bed and sat, her legs hanging down, casual and natural, as if she belonged there, watching him. Being with him.
“I’m going to draw you a bath.” Obviously. How else was it going to be accomplished?
“You can’t draw me a bath,” she insisted. “You’ll break your back.” She waved a hand over him.
Sol snickered. She had to be joking. Well, now he was most certainly going to have to do it, two buckets at a time, at least.
“I will most certainly not break my back.” He flexed his arms a little. “I’m young and strong.” And not exactly a small man. Broad too.
Hannah gave him a long, withering glance. “And not at all used to physical labor.”
“No, but I exert myself.” Quite a bit, especially sparring with Aaron. He pushed up his sleeves so she could see his arms.
Her eyes twinkled and she glanced down at her lap before wrinkling her nose. “You don’t know how,” she argued. “And it takes time. You need to make a fire, heat the water in a kettle, and then carry it to the tub.”
“Yes, I worked that out in my mind.” He rolled hiseyes. Even he wasn’t that dim. “And the kitchen fire is already going.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “And given the time, no one will be about for at least an hour. I should be able to do it.” Correction, hewouldbe able to do it. Not only to reward her, but to show her that he was just as competent and capable as she.
Or could be, with the right motivation.
She chewed on her lip for a long moment, not moving from her position. “Why?” she asked, and the confusion in that one word nicked at his innards, sharp and pure, like the edge of glass.
“Because I want to.” And it was the truth. More and more as the seconds ticked by.
“All right.” She shook her head and gave a bemused sniff. “Draw me a bath.”
After more huffing, puffing, and pulling than he was used to—not that he could or ever would admit the same to Hannah—shvitz dripping down his neck, Sol finally filled the tub with the last two buckets of hot water. In just under an hour too. Not bad. Not bad at all.
“It’s ready,” he told her, turning to where she had moved—from the bed to a chair by the fire, her legs tucked under her, one of his books in her lap. God, she fit so neatly there, so comfortably. He twisted his fingers, resisting the urge to take up residence across from her.
She closed the volume, and he craned his neck to read her selection. Keats. Interesting. He’d have thought she’d want one more business-minded, though the idea of her reading something just for herself, in his room…
“Hmm?” she asked, lifting her chin and interrupting his thoughts. Thoughts he most certainly should not be having.
