AllFreeNovel
Share Us
He’s hard where I’m soft. Tough where I’m not. And if I could ever afford to go to therapy, I’m sure I’d be able to unpack these feelings of insecurity. But since that’s not in the cards, I’ll just have to trust the look in his eyes, and believe he finds me as attractive as I find him.
Nero pulls the curtain closed behind him, and my body automatically turns to face him.
Even though my brain is shouting at me that I don’t actually know this man, my heart is telling me to cling to him with both hands.
His eyes flick across my body, cataloging all my parts, but not lingering. He meets my gaze again.
There’s not much room in here, so even standing on opposite ends of the tub, there’s barely a foot of space between us.
Silently, Nero reaches up and starts to pull my hair loose from its bun. His fingers are gentle, and he manages to get it out without tearing any strands of hair out.
“What are you doing?” I finally ask when he slips the black elastic around his wrist.
With his fingertips at my temples, he tips my head back, wetting my hair in the stream of water. “I’m washing your hair.”
I squint my eyes against the spray. “Why?”
“Because I want to.”
He tips my head back upright and I guess we’re both going to pretend that his dick isn’t hard right now.
Nero picks up my bottle of shampoo, filling his palm.
He moves back just a bit. “Come here.”
I step toward him, so the hair hanging down my back is no longer in the water. And then, for the first time that I can remember, someone washes my hair.
His fingers scrub my locks, scraping lightly across my scalp, sending tingles up and down my spine.
He runs his hands down the length, before moving his attention back to my roots. The touch is so tender, and I have to take deep inhales through my nose, hoping to keep the rest of my tears at bay.
I don’t know how to handle this, the hot and cold, the rough and sweet, with him. But a part of me knows that I’m just broken enough to accept it. To take what he’s willing to give, because what he gives feels so damn close to love.
“Back.”
Keeping my eyes closed, I let him guide me back under the spray, where he continues his soft touches, rinsing the shampoo out of my hair.
His hands on my shoulders let me know it’s time to step forward again.
And this time I watch him, I watch his face, and the tender look in his eyes, as he runs conditioner through my hair; taking the time to separate the sections and run his fingers through the strands to make sure nothing is tangled.
Again, he moves me back under the spray and rinses the product out of my hair.
But he doesn’t stop there.
Nero reaches down, picking up my facewash next.
I expect him to hand me the bottle. But, of course, he doesn’t.
Squeezing a small amount out, he rubs his fingertips together. “Close your eyes, Baby.”
My body complies and I tip my head back as I do so, giving him a better view of my face from his taller height. And when his touch glides over my cheeks, I feel another traitorous tear roll down from my eye to meet his touch.
“Shh.” His thumb brushes the tear away. “I’ve got you.”
Instead of calming my nerves, his words fray them even more.
I want to ask him why, but instead, I murmur, “I thought I locked the door.”
