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I play around with the words in my mind. “You might want to remove your shirt. So it doesn’t get wet.”
“We wouldn’t want that, now would we?”His smile curls mischievously, and I light up again.
“No.” I shake my head. My pulse violently slams against my throat. I can’t believe I’m saying every thought I’m having out loud.
Matthew stands, his white linen shirt clinging to his skin, tufts of chest hair poking out. He gives me a sultry grin and slowly flicks open the buttons, exposing more and more of his tanned torso. I’m in awe.
He tugs his shirt off, sending it to the ground while revealing his lean, muscular build.
“How’s that?”
“Better,” I croak.
“I’ll start slow.” He kneels beside me, grabbing the showerhead again. “Just let me know if I’m doing this right. Can you do that for me?”
I almost yell,You could do anything, absolutely anything you want to me!But I focus my eyes back onto the bubbly surface of the water. “I will.”
He turns on the water again, waiting for it to warm. Then he gently places the metal of the showerhead along my scalp. The stream cascades down my hair and over my shoulders. Matthew’s fingers glide through my strands, gently massaging my scalp with every stroke.
The sensation is pure ecstasy. The stress and tension of the past couple of weeks wash away under his capable hands.
“You like that, baby?”
Baby. Oh god. My breathing is going to give out. “A lot.”
“Good.” I close my eyes and let out a moan, lost beneath the feel of his fingers. “Should I use this moisturizing shampoo, or the co-wash?”
Yeah. That about does it. A gorgeous man, rough and rugged, shirtless beside me, is asking about my curl care.
“The shampoo is fine, followed by the deep conditioner.Please.”
“Perfect.” The shampoo bottle squirts, and then his fingers return. He takes his time, working his way through every strand. “You know, I don’t think I ever told you, but your hair was one of the first things I noticed about you. All these beautiful curls, like wildflowers tied together with lace.”
I swallow. Hard.
My heart melts in my chest. Actually melts, I’m certain of it. Instinctively, I reach for my hair, feeling a little bashful again, but he gently guides my hand back into the water.
“They have a mind of their own,” I say with a soft laugh.
“They’re rather lovely, Molly.”
Matthew rinses out the shampoo and then kisses me on the forehead. He holsters the showerhead and rummages around with another bottle before returning to my scalp.
Getting my hair washed by him is now my favorite thing in the world.
“Still feel good?” he asks, massaging my neck.
“Very.” I inhale, sinking deeper into the tub. “Very nice.”
“Can I make you feel any better?”
Yes. One hundred percent. I beg of you.
But the words don’t come easily. Instead, I press my face against his muscular bicep. “Kiss me?”
He rinses his hands, tilts my jaw, and connects our lips. Even though it’s only been a few hours since we last kissed, this one is just as passionate. He breaches the surface of my lips with his tongue, feasting on me.
My core pulses.
