“I know. Intellectually, I know that’s how it’s supposed to work.” She pulled her knees to her chest, making herself smaller. “But I’ve never experienced it. Never had anyone actually want to help instead of treating it like a burden.”
“Wewantto help.” I let that sit between us for a moment. “But we need you to tell us what you need. What helps, what doesn’t, what makes it better or worse.”
“I don’t know,” she admitted. “I’ve never had someone ask.”
“Then we’ll figure it out together.”
The heat surged again, and I watched her curl forward slightly, breathing through it. Her scent spiked, calling to me with biological imperative, but I stayed where I was. She needed to be in control of this, needed to set the pace.
When the wave passed, she looked at me with eyes that were fever-bright. “I need to shower. I feel like I’m burning up.”
“Let me help,” I said, standing. “Heat makes it hard to stand steady. I don’t want you falling.”
She looked uncertain for a moment, then nodded. “Okay. But just... to make sure I’m safe.”
“Just to make sure you’re safe,” I agreed.
I followed her into the bathroom, giving her space while she adjusted the water temperature. The master bathroom was spacious, with a large walk-in shower that had clearly been designed with function over luxury in mind. Practical, like everything about Dane’s safe house.
“The water’s good,” she said, her back to me. “I should be okay from here.”
“Sable.” I waited until she turned to look at me. “You’re shaking. Let me help.”
She was trembling, I realized. Not just from the heat but from exhaustion and need and trying to hold herself together through sheer willpower.
“I don’t know if I can handle you seeing me like this,” she admitted quietly. “Vulnerable. Needy. Not in control.”
“Then let me prove you can.” I moved closer, keeping my voice gentle. “Let me help you through this wave, and then if you want me to leave, I’ll leave.”
She studied my face for a long moment, then slowly nodded. “Okay.”
She pulled the borrowed shirt over her head, and I caught my breath. She was beautiful. Flushed skin, curves in all the right places, trembling slightly from the intensity of the heat.
“You’re staring,” she said, but there was no heat in it. Just vulnerability.
“Because you’re gorgeous. Because I can’t believe you’re trusting me with this.” I stepped closer. “Come on. Let’s get you in the water.”
I stripped off my own shirt, leaving my jeans on despite the discomfort, and guided her into the shower. The warm water cascaded over both of us, and she gasped as it hit her overheated skin.
“Better?” I asked.
“A little. But the heat’s still building.” She leaned against the tile wall, breathing hard. “It’s not enough. The water’s not enough.”
“What do you need?”
“I don’t know. Touch, maybe? Everything feels too intense and not enough at the same time.”
I reached for the soap, lathering my hands. “May I?”
She nodded, and I began washing her carefully. Starting with her shoulders, working down her arms, feeling the tension in hermuscles. She was wound so tight, fighting the heat instead of surrendering to it.
“You’re allowed to let go,” I murmured as my soapy hands moved to her back. “You don’t have to stay in control all the time.”
“I don’t know how to not be in control.”
“Then I’ll show you.” My hands moved lower, massaging the tension from her lower back, feeling her start to relax into my touch. “Just focus on what feels good.”
The heat surged again, and she gasped, pressing back against my hands. “Beau, I need...”
