Page 21 of Full of Wrath

“I don’t need any help with my body, Memphis.”

What am I going to do with him? His fingers come to a scratch across my hip that I had kind of forgotten about, causing me to almost jump out of my skin. His touch burns through me like fire. Before I can even fuss about it, he has moved on to my shoulder, where a deeper scratch is present, this one from where the bullet grazed me, and on to the one over the swell of my breast. That one has me jumping and trying to pull back but there’s no place to go. His fingertips trace the wound, causing my heart to beat faster and my breath to come out ragged and shaky.

“So beautiful. And so soft. Yet, you're strong enough to survive, aren’t you?”

Am I?

“I…”

He leans forward to take my mouth with his, not the fast, hungry kisses from before. This one is soft and slow and deep. Our lips cling to one another and it’s like there is no need to hurry or to worry about anything but the present when the two of us are together like this.

I forget why I’m fighting this, why I’m fighting him. I forget why I’m trying to hide parts of myself or keep things from him. For one glorious moment all I’m thinking about is just him, just the kiss, just the now. My hand comes up to touch his face the way he touches mine, exploring with my fingertips. His cheeks have stubble on them now that it’s late at night. It’s a drastic contrast to the softness of his pillowy lips, almost like it’s trying to protect the softness under all the bristles and roughness. I wonder, is that what he’s like? Rough when he has to be, soft and gentle when it’s just me. Am I the only one who gets this?

“Oh, sweetheart, I’m going to take such good care of you.”

My lips are swollen when we finally pull apart. He kisses the sides of my cheeks and down my throat, and I find myself tipping my head in his waiting hand so he can better reach more places to kiss. It escapes my attention that my hands are no longer covering myself.

“But first, I’ve got to make sure you trust me.” His lips are at my ear, his breath tickling the fine hairs fanning my face. He nibbles the lobe of my ear before he’s gone.

The abruptness of his departure leaves me stunned enough that he easily slips behind me.

“Lie back, sweetheart.”

His hands tug on my shoulders until I do as he says. My hair tumbles down from where I had it pinned back and his fingers run through it. My arms come back up to cover my bare breasts as soft water sprays across my hair.

“You’ll get the floor wet.” I try to sit up, but his hand on my shoulder stops me.

“That’s why it’s tile, baby. Easy to mop up afterwards.”

His fingers massage my scalp, and I can’t stop the moan that falls out or my back arching to push myself into his touch. Once it’s out, I slap my hand over my mouth, then back over my breasts. He softly chuckles behind me.

“It’s okay to enjoy this, baby. There’s no shame in enjoying my touch, my kisses,” he punctuates his words with kisses down the side of my neck, “the things I do to you, for you.”

Oh! GOD!

A shiver works its way through my body as he uses his grip on my wet hair to turn my head so he can kiss the other side of my neck. Fuck! The way he’s moving me where he wants me turns me on more than it should. After years of making all the decisions, it’s kind of nice…no, it’s amazingly nice, to not have to think, not have to plan every move for everybody in the room, not have to worry about all those moves being right.

He sinks his hands in my hair and starts using the shower head again. He washes my hair and refills my tub when he starts rinsing it. I’m so relaxed by the time I lean back that it takes me a second to realize he’s ready to move on, to do more.

“Ready for me to wash the rest of you?”

“What?!” I try to sit up, but again large hands hold me in place.

He moves around me so we’re almost eye to eye. I can’t keep my gaze from dropping to his bare chest. When I look up, a smile stretches across his face. Apparently, I’m not subtle or sneaky.

“You can wash me too.”

My cheeks heat so much you can start fires with them, no kindling required.

“I don’t…”

“Why don’t we put this one right here, so we don’t hurt it?” He takes the wrist I have the cast on and sets it on the rim of the tub. “And let me take this one to wash.”

His grin is downright wicked now. He starts washing my arm before I can pull it back. I didn’t even realize he had the body wash until just now. His eyes rake over my bare chest, and his eyes heat with the bluest fire I’ve ever seen. He looks like he wants to eat me. His tongue coming out to lick his lips does nothing to kill the image of him making a meal out of me either.

The scary thing isn’t that he wants to consume me; it’s that I think I might want him to. I might not mind him taking control and eating me all up. Just call me Red Riding Hood.

Chapter Twenty