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I have to pee, and it’s not worth arguing about this, so I sit and make direct eye contact while I take care of my needs. He just stares back with a grin on his stupidly handsome face. When I finish and wash my hands, I glance at the large shower stall. “Are you going to stay while I shower, too?”
He brushes past me and turns on the water, testing the temperature every few seconds. “Is that good?”
I stick my hand under the spray and shake my head. “I like it hotter.”
He shrugs like he doesn’t care and cranks up the temperature. Once it’s where I like it, I step under the spray, and he follows me, crowding against my back.
“I can do this on my own.”
He tips my head back into the water and strokes my scalp into the spray. “I know you can shower yourself, but I’m taking care of you now. And you will have no secrets from me. I’ll assist you when I feel like it, and I’ll watch you when I want to.”
I should argue with him about his control issues, but I can’t think as he massages shampoo into my scalp with his strong fingers. It takes everything in me not to moan out loud, between his hands and his slick, desirable body aligned with mine. Warm heat coils in my belly.
After he rinses my hair, he adds conditioner and tugs me out from under the direct spray. His gaze takes on a predatory gleam as he soaps up a washcloth. He stares down at my body like he can’t quite decide where to start. He gently washes my bruised wrists first, and then, just as carefully, runs the washcloth over every inch of me, even between my toes and behind my ears. I don’t think I’ve ever been so thoroughly soaped up.
He rinses me with equal care from the soap to the conditioner. I’m practically a big ball of goo by the time he slides the glass door open.
And as if I’m in some posh spa, he produces two large fluffy, warm towels and wraps me up. “Thank you,” I whisper.
He leads me back into the bedroom, plants me on the bed, climbs up behind me, and gently starts running a brush through my hair.
I can’t take it anymore. This has to stop. “What are you doing?”
The brush slides along my scalp, shooting tingles down my spine.
“Taking care of you.”
“But why? Why are you doing this? I can care for myself, and I’m sure you have plenty of bad guy things you could be doing. You know, like ruining people’s lives and kidnapping people?”
“Nope. The only life I have to ruin today is yours. Soo is taking care of a few things, and I’ll touch base with him later. Do you want me to call down and have Sarah bring some food up for us?”
I don’t want to admit I want anything from him, but I’m so hungry my stomach is cramping up. Biting back my words, I nod.
He grabs his phone from the bedside table and types out a text. Then resumes his grooming of me. After a short while, I’m reminded that I still don’t know what is going to happen next. Where do we go from here?
“So, you are keeping me until you get bored or until I say something that pisses you off?”
He snorts. “I’m pretty sure you say more that pisses me off than you do otherwise.”
I can’t wrap my head around what he’s saying. If he doesn’t want to sell me, then what does he want to do with me? And when did I suddenly start caring? The last two days have me upside down and turned inside out. I was sure when he left me in that room, and we parted ways, I’d never see him again, let alone ever hear him say that I belong to him, in more than a form of revenge. This is different. His need for me hinges on something deeper.
“Then please just tell me what you want?” My tone is calm, level, and I hope we can have a civil conversation for once. Ours always seem to develop into a fight, or worse.
His hands go still in my hair. “I want you. That’s it.” He pauses, “No, that’s not it. I want you to want me in return. And while I can understand that, it might take you some time to come around to that. I’m willing to wait.”
I blink and pull away from him, turning fully so I can actually look at his face. I can’t believe what I’m hearing. His features are serious, set in hard lines, and his full lips tilt down as he stares at me with the same fury I feel. Daring me to fight him, to call him names, or lash out.
