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It’s this living breathing awareness that settles in the pit of my stomach and between my thighs. It prickles the back of my neck when I think about how easily he could put his mouth there. I’ve had so many fantasies. Possibly even realities. I wish I could remember.
Flipping the lid open on my shampoo, he pours a generous amount into his hand.
The entire bathroom fills with that blackberry scent. “You don’t have to do this.”
“I’m here to look after you.” He presses his fingers into my tresses and massages my scalp with the cleansing lotion. “So don’t argue about it.”
It feels amazing as the soap grows sudsy. “So good.”
He stiffens. His fingers temporarily forget their task. “You don’t want to do that.”
“What?”
“You moaned.” He clears his throat. “And I don’t want to scare you when you realize what that sound does to my body.”
“Oh.” He’s affected by me. As much as I seem to be affected by him. Of course he is. We wouldn’t be here… married… if that wasn’t the case.
“Yes, oh,” he murmurs as he guides me back under the water and works on rinsing the soap out of my hair.
How did my moan affect him? If I turn around would I be able to tell? Would I see the evidence? Is he hard?
Don’t look. Don’t peek. Oh, but I’m tempted to. Either that or run from the shower and hide from the man I am so not ready for. It’s a toss-up.
He squeezes a glob of conditioner into my hair and runs it through with the comb. His breath is loud despite the water. “I‘m not ready let you go to Adira’s because that’s where I found you.”
“What?” His confession breaks me from my one-track thoughts.
“In Narnia.” His voice is raw. “You were lying there… on the floor. You were so still. And there was blood… so much blood. You almost didn’t make it.”
He stops moving. Stops talking.
“That’s why you don’t want me to go home?” I turn to face him. To find the pain in his gaze is almost unbearable. I feel like an awful person for not considering that he does remember everything that has happened since we met.
“I should have told you earlier. I reacted badly. You’ve lost your memories and I didn’t know how to tell you what I was thinking.” He touches my hair. Holds one wet tress on his finger. “I can’t stand the thought of you going there. You’re already traumatized. I’m worried about what taking you back there might do. So can we put it off for now? At least… until you’re settled? I should have said that earlier. I should have been clearer.”
“Thank you for telling me.” I touch his abs. I can’t help myself. They’re beautiful. And the front of his boxers are tented. I pretend I don’t notice that part. I’m not ready. I’m not sure. I’m only beginning to feel like it could be okay to believe Adira when he says Rogue is a good man. But my mouth waters anyway. “I don’t remember any of the details. It’s like the whole thing happened to someone else.”
“It didn’t though, Ivy. It happened to you.” He turns me around and lathers up his hands with body wash before gliding them over every part of my body that isn’t covered by the towel, until I smell like a sugar cookie. “Adira can come here. He can stay for a few days while you get your bearings. I’ll make that happen if that’s what you want.”
“You’ll do that for me?” I ask once the soap is washed away.
“I’ll do anything for you, baby. Except let you out of my sight.”
Eventually he’ll have to. I’ve spent too much time in institutions and under my mother’s control. I won’t live like that again. But he’s traumatized too. Because of me. And yet, he’s willing to make concessions. It makes me feel like I’m not so much a prisoner to his whim, but someone he cares about. I need to give us both a chance to find our way. We can tackle this one day at a time. “Okay.”
“Okay.” He presses his lips to the back of my neck.
My breath catches, but it’s so natural for him that he doesn’t even seem to realize as he shuts off the water and climbs out to grab towels. He wraps one around his hips and helps me exchange my drenched one for a dry sheet before leaving the bathroom.
He’s back in an instant with a change of clothes and an extra T-shirt. He helps me with the plastic sleeve and then helps me dress. Our gazes lock a lot. Shy glances from me because he’s not what I expected. Hooded glances from him because he doesn’t want me to see how much worry is in them.
My stomach growls as he drops into a crouch and helps get my panties up my legs. I take over when he hits mid-thigh.
“You’re hungry?” He peels the backing off a new bandage and positions it carefully on my arm.
“It’s late.” But yeah, I haven’t eaten since this morning.
“I could have something delivered.” He smooths out the edges of the bandage so it sits flat on my skin. “Pizza? Tacos? Sushi?”
