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CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Stephanie
I’d taken my sweettime cleaning Gahn Errok’s back, trying to procrastinate on what I knew had to come next. But there was no way around it, now.
His loincloth had to come off.
His skin was clean, but the fabric around his hips – the only thing left on his body now that his straps and weapons were removed – was soaked with his blood. He was still lying on his right side with me kneeling behind him.
“Alright,” I said, trying to sound professional and efficient and not as flailingly awkward as I felt. “You need to take that off.”
“Take what off?” came his reply.He’s really going to make me spell it out for him, isn’t he?I wanted to be annoyed with him but found that I couldn’t be. His voice sounded thick. Almost dazed. I’d been cleaning him in silence for a long time. Maybe he’d drifted off to sleep for a bit.
“The only thing left on your body, obviously,” I said. I poked at his hip. “Your loincloth.”
“You mean my cock cloth?”
“Potato, potato. Yes.”
“What’s apahtaytoe pahtawtoe?”
“It’s a root vegetable. Nevermind. Would you just take this off?”
I poked his hip again, a little harder this time, but wrenched my hand away when his tail jerked in response.
“Why must I remove it? Though I would gladly accept your healing below my waist, I feel it is only fair to remind you that I have no injury there.”
“Your loincloth is filthy. Completely soaked with blood,” I told him, rolling my eyes.
His tail twitched. Then, without warning, his left arm snapped down to the hip I’d poked a moment before. Within seconds, before I could get my bearings enough to look away, he’d unloosed the garment from his body, letting it fall until it was trapped beneath him.
I suppose I need to look to make sure he doesn’t need to be cleaned down there...
But he didn’t. The loincloth had soaked up his spilled blood and the Vrika’s blood, leaving his skin clean.
I ascertained that immediately. Which meant I should have been looking away right about now.
But I wasn’t.
My eyes were glued to his fucking ass. Even relaxed on his side like this, his glutes were hard, round, and strong, perched above violet-tinged tree-trunk thighs. His tail swept downward and to the side, a muscled line resting on the mattress and giving me far more of a view than I would have had if he’d been standing up with his tail falling straight down behind him. My face burned. My throat went dry.
Thank God I wasn’t on the other side of him when he undressed, I thought. If his ass is turning me into such a fucking idiot, I don’t even want to know what seeing his cock would do.
With great effort, I forced my gaze away. And with even greater effort, I yanked the loincloth out from under his significant bulk.
My heartbeat bludgeoning the inside of my head, I hurried away from him, washing the garment in the heated pools then laying it on the stone near the fire to dry.
But now I was faced with a whole new conundrum.
Because there would be no way to avoid seeing his cock, now. When I turned around, I’d be walking back towards his front.
I am not some cock-obsessed idiot. I can do this! Just pretend he’s got nothing down there at all. Or picture something else between his legs. Something nice and calming. Like... A sunset. Or a kitten. Or a beach. A kitten on a beach during a sunset.
Because of our earlier conversation, though, all I could picture was a fucking potato. And not just any potato. One of those insanely long, tapered-but-girthy sweet potatoes that made you do a double take in the grocery store.
Oh my fucking God. Someone put me out of my misery.
Huffing out a heated breath, I hurled my body around to face him, keeping my gaze fastened on the ceiling as I stomped back.
