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Sliding me from his thigh, he helps me to my feet and my skirt falls to the floor. His fingers hook under the lace covering my hips and he carefully works the fabric down my thighs, allowing it to fall to my feet. He lightly grips the back of my thighs and gives a gentle tug toward him. While he doesn’t speak a word, I climb onto his lap, straddling him, as I press myself back against him. As though he knows how much I need it, his arms wrap snuggly around me.
He tightens his embrace as he rises to his feet. Having removed nothing but his shoes, Gabriel steps into the tub.
“Ga—”
“Shhh. It doesn’t matter.” His soft words blow over my shoulder as he lowers us both into the water.
He lifts a washcloth from the edge of the tub, and I realize that his hands are stained red. As though he can hear my thoughts, he whispers, “I’m fine.”
He dunks the cloth into the sudsy water, rings it slightly, and begins tenderly sliding it over my face. It repeatedly stains the same red as his hands, and he merely continues to rinse it before cleaning more blood from my face. I follow the cloth as he slides it down my arm, realizing for the first time that my arms are riddled with small scratches.
Taking his time, continuing to comfort me, he meticulously cleans every drop of blood and glass from my skin. He drops the washcloth into the water and slides his hands up my back to my shoulders. “Lean back for me.”
Supporting the bulk of my weight, he lowers me to the water until my head is resting against the surface. He splays one hand between my shoulders to hold me as the other begins tentatively wetting my hair. Gently sliding his fingers into my wet locks, he works the water through my hair to remove any shards of glass without cutting me.
When he’s satisfied, he lifts me from the water and pulls me back to his chest. His lips rest against my forehead as he strokes my now-sopping hair.
“We can stay right here for as long as you need.”
“Can you take me to the bed?” I ask as though I need his permission. “I just want to feel your skin against mine as you hold me.”
“Anything you want, Sofia.” He grips me firmly and lifts us both from the water. The drastic change from warm water to cool air causes goosebumps to prickle over my skin. Pools of water fall from his sodden and now ruined suit as he wraps me in a towel. “I’ll be right there.”
My feet carry me slowly to the door that joins the bath to the bedroom, suddenly hesitant to put too much distance between us. Closing my eyes and taking a deep breath, I walk the several feet to the bed and drop my towel. I slide between the sheets and impatiently wait for Gabriel to come and hold me.
twenty two
GABRIEL
Reaching my hand into the quickly cooling, sudsy water, I pull the stopper for the drain as she walks to the door. I stand within view of the doorway as I peel the wet clothes from my body. Knowing all of my clothes are beyond salvation, I toss them into the tub hoping they’ll dry enough to throw them away later. I pull one of her luxurious towels from the wall and dry myself before using it to mop up the puddle of water I have left in the middle of the floor.
“Gabriel?” Sofia’s voice sounds soft and fragile as she calls for me.
“I’m coming.” I toss the soaking towel into the tub and make my way to the bed. Lifting the covers, I slide between them and toward Sofia’s naked body.
She rolls over to meet me, her small, soft hand sliding across my chest as she presses against me until there isn’t the slightest of gaps between our skin. I pull the blankets over the two of us until only her head is above them before wrapping my arms tightly around her.
While it’s still early in the morning, she is absolutely exhausted from the events that have transpired. Every stroke of my fingers through her damp hair causes her eyelids to become heavier and flutter slower.
“It’s okay. Go to sleep.” Her eyes fall shut as her breathing begin to slow. “I’ll be here when you wake up, cariño.”
She sleeps peacefully in my arms as I stare down at her beautiful, marred face. Having appeared worse when blood trickled down her face, the scratches are not nearly as bad as I had originally thought. Mixed between them, tiny bruises pepper her face, likely from being pelted with the flying shards of glass.
But still, she’s fucking beautiful.
The front doorbell rings, and I’m relieved that it is both short and quiet—not rousing Sofia from her sleep. I carefully slip my arm from under her and tuck the blankets against her in a sore excuse for my embrace before climbing fully from the bed.
I’ll be right back.
Walking to the foot of the bed, I grab a pair of pants from the bag Mateo had brought over—fuck, Mateo—and throw them on, going commando. There is a steady knock at the door as I approach. Gripping the shotgun I scoffed at last night, I hesitantly place my face to the peephole.
Please don’t be a silencer on the other side, just waiting to put a bullet through my brain.
I really need to stop watching crime movies.
Relief washes over me when see Mr. Marcano and a blurry Mr. Ramirez behind him. Flipping the deadbolt, I pull open the door to find their surprised faces. It suddenly dawns on me that I shouldn’t be here.
I really shouldn’t be here shirtless with unfastened pants.
