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“I’ll go first and see if anyone’s up there.” I unstick one end of the tape and walk through before re-sticking it. “Wait here?”
Grim nods. His gaze is soft on me. I can tell he appreciates my efforts. It may be a lot of planning for a single shower, but Grim is worth it. Heck, I’ll do this for him every day, if he’ll let me.
Leaving him at the bottom of the stairs, I check the dorm and bathroom. The beds are in various states of tidiness, and there is some laundry on the floor, but there are no men up here. Leaning into the stairwell, I shout, “All clear!”
When Grim comes up, I look behind him and make sure the sign is strung across the stairs. Yep. All safe.
“We have the place to ourselves,” I say with a bounce of my eyebrows.
Grim chuckles and scoops me to him. “What will we do with all this privacy?”
I laugh. “And all the hot water you could possibly want? I have a feeling we’ll think of something.” Bubbly happiness puts a bounce in my step as I lead the way to the bathroom. The door has a lock on it, but no one ever uses it. In fact, the door stands open at all times thanks to a rubber wedge-shaped door stop. But Grim gets special treatment. I kick the doorstop out and let the door fall shut. I turn the lock with a comfortingclick.
We’re secure. We’re alone.
The moment I turn around, Grim pulls me into his arms and his mouth lands hard on mine. I’m so relieved to have him all to myself that I moan as I open for him.
At once, my insides turn to molten lava. My hands are everywhere. They’re trying to reach Grim’s skin, but his hoodie is in the way. I try to get the hoodie off him, but I’m too clumsy in my haste. My hands are shaking.
Grim sets me away from him just long enough to rip the bulky garment over his head and toss it to the floor. Then he’s back, one huge mitt of a hand holding my head, the other cupping my butt and pinning me to him. His hips roll forward as he opens his mouth over mine, and I push back. My arms around his neck are an unbreakable binding. We’re pasted together, and I never want to come unglued.
“I’ve missed you,” I whisper as he trails kisses over my neck.
“Me too.” A rough tug at my shirt exposes a collarbone, which he laves with his tongue.
I want to have sex with Grim, like all-the-way sex, and I don’t want to wait until tonight. But first things first. It’s time to spoil this beautiful man rotten.
“Mmmf,shower,” I manage against his lips.
“You’ll come with me?” The heat in his gaze is enough to set the lodge ablaze.
I grin. Something tells me we’llbothbe coming.
Chapter 19
Grim
I have done nothingto deserve the attention my angel gives me. That does not mean I will reject it. Even if I wanted to, I could not. I could never deny her, not when she fills me with sunshine by smiling at me, and not when she leaps into my arms and accosts me with kisses, as if she truly desires me.
I will never say no to my angel.
I should have, when she suggested coming here to the barracks, but at her insistence, I caved. She asked me to trust her, that she would be my lookout, and what a thorough job she is doing! I cannot help but trust her when she is so earnest and when she wants so badly to give me the luxury of a hot shower.
I do not mind cold water, especially after vigorous activity, but I have to admit, as she turns the knob and the steam begins rising from one of the two shower stalls, my skin tingles with anticipation.
Our towels are folded neatly on the floor, waiting to be useful, and the curtain is open, framing a peach-tiled cubicle of steaming warmth. I marvel that the others enjoy this kind of bathing every day. It seems excessive to me. I do not deserve excess. But Cora does.
Perhaps, if she hadn’t said she wanted a shower too, I would have stood by my refusal. But now that I am here and a locked door stands between me and the others, I have to admit the scenario is acceptably safe.
But thoughts of safety do not linger once Cora peels her T-shirt from her body. It’s a new shirt, one of her make-up birthday gifts, and with its deep blue color, it suits her. It makes her eyes even more beautiful. But they are still beautiful when the shirt hits the floor.
She stands before me in a bra and a pair of jeans. Her hair is a wild tangle of long waves around her shoulders, and her skin is the color of ivory. She is gaining much-needed weight. Faint shadows hug her ribcage, but they are not as deep as they were a week ago. As she hooks her thumbs in the denim and shimmies out of her jeans, I take stock of her hips. The bones are not as prominent. There are no hollows on either side of her flat stomach.
Her clothing joins my sweatshirt on the floor, and I cannot look away from her beauty. Her bra is pink, and her underwear is…nonexistent. A dark triangle of pubic hair makes my mouth water, but I feel myself frown.
“We brought you underwear. Did it not fit?”
She smiles as her arms contort to unhook her bra. “I want to wash them before I wear them. My mom taught me that. It gets any chemicals from the factory off the fabric.”
