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I go straight to where she’s sitting and snatch it out of her grasp. “This isn’t for you.”
Her feet shoot out, and she scrambles, pressing her back against the wall, and I feel like an ass. She’s not fighting me. I have no reason to be cruel. Still, I’m pissed.
“I’m sorry.” Her voice is quiet. “I was just trying to pass the time.”
Without an answer, I take the photo and return it to my book before placing it on the nightstand where it belongs. Going around to my bag, I pull out a pair of sweats and a tee, pulling the shirt over my head before going to the bathroom to hang the towel and step into my pants.
When I get back, she’s sitting with her legs crossed, studying her fingers. She lifts her head when I enter.
“Dirk…” Her brow furrows, like she’s afraid to ask. “I really need to shower. Would it be possible, please, real quick—”
Inhaling deeply, I bend down to unhook the handcuff. “Come on.”
I wait until she stands, then I lead her to the bathroom I’ve just vacated. Steam is on the mirrors, and I look at the large window behind the bathtub. Scar’s razor, a pair of scissors, a hand mirror, a set of candles in heavy, stone containers, hell, the iron sculpture over the tub, all of these things can be used to break out or be used as weapons.
Scrubbing the back of my neck, I don’t see another option. “I’ll have to stay in here with you, but I’ll turn my back.”
“I’ll be quick.” She grabs the hem of the tee I gave her to wear, and I turn the minute it starts to rise.
Last thing I need is to see her breasts with the way I’m feeling. My hands are on the counter, when I realize turning my back doesn’t remove the oversized mirrors directly in front of me lining the two walls behind the vanity.
She steps into the glass shower stall and switches on the water, and my eyes drift from my hands on the counter to the mirror. The steam is dissipating, and I can see her smooth back as she holds out her hand, testing the water. When it’s acceptable, she steps forward, and I’m not sure if she intends to moan, but she does. It’s a charge straight to my dick.
Reaching down, I slide my palm over my semi to calm the raging need her round ass and soft noises provoke. It’s when I realize I’ve made a critical mistake.
25
Rainey
This might bethe best shower I’ve had in my entire life. For three days I’ve been stuck in this miserable prison, and while the temperature has been cool and I haven’t done any strenuous exercise, I still feel like I’m wearing a second skin. My deodorant failed days ago, and even the clean, citrusy scent in Dirk’s clothes is gone.
Forgetting my promise to work quickly, I close my eyes and let the luscious warm water flow over my dirty hair and face. I’ve been so miserable, this one small comfort is like a lifeline. It’s like the warm muffin or the hot coffee, or the feeling of being wrapped in Dirk’s arms in the middle of the night, even for just a few moments.
I’d been in hell in my sleep, running from the men who shot my father, terrified. I’d been clinging to my little doll for comfort when Natasha threw it into the fire. My heart was breaking over and over as I lost all the things I held dear, and once again, he saved me from the nightmares.
Only now he’s the thing I hold dear, and I don’t think I’ll ever have him again.
Reaching for the shampoo, I quickly wash my hair. It smells like honeysuckle, and I realize it must belong to Hana. Next, I take the soap and quickly form a lather, running my hands all over my body, under my arms, over my belly, between my legs.
Automatically, I turn to rinse, and my eyes land on dark hazel watching me in the mirror. It’s a strike of lightning from my chest to my core, and I freeze, holding my hands in my hair, my breasts lifted, my lips parted.
He doesn’t look away, and I don’t either. Moving my hands slowly, I slide my palms down my cheeks, then I slide them lower, over my breasts. My nipples are peaked, and I lift them, keeping my eyes on his as warmth floods my belly.
In my peripheral vision, I see his hand move over his dick. Slipping out my tongue, I wet my bottom lip as I continue caressing my breasts. It’s hypnotic watching him watch me. His hand is outside his sweatpants, but the bulge in the thin fabric is painfully obvious.
I take a chance, reaching behind me to switch off the water. I reach up again, arching my back to lift my breasts as I wring the excess water out of my hair, then I step to the door and push it open.
His back is still to me, but his eyes drink in my naked body in the mirror, small drops of water clinging to my skin. Steam climbs the glass, but I’ve reached him. His muscles are tense, his broad shoulders rising with his rapid breathing. I press my breasts to his back, sliding my hands around his waist and moving one beneath the fabric to caress his hard cock.
Wetness floods my core, and I close my eyes remembering how good it feels, curling my fingers and tracing every line and ridge of his erection. I want him so much. With a start, as if waking from a dream, he grips my wrist, jerking my hand away as he turns in my arms to face me.
My eyes fly open, and when they meet his, he’s furious. I’m not sure what comes over me, but I lift my other hand and grip his shoulder, pushing him back as if I’ll fight with him. He grips my other wrist pushing me, and I pivot, rotating my body so he slams me against the wall.
I exhale a moan, and his eyes flash. He closes the space between us, caging me with his body, and my lips part. We’re not speaking, but a whimper slips from my throat. Every noise seems to enrage him more, and he puts his hand between my legs, cupping my pussy.
“Oh,” I gasp as his fingers invade, testing my wetness.
My hands go to his waist, and I push the soft cotton pants lower. I palm his erection before quickly dropping to my knees and pulling it into my mouth.
