Page 22 of Conceal

She turns to give me privacy, and I shrug off the stale hospital gown, resting the towel over my lap.

When she steps back into the shower stall, she’s stripped down to her underwear and bra. Fuck!

I close my eyes. There’s no way I can look at her right now. Her pervy older bodyguard.

“It’s just like a bathing suit. You’ve seen me in less.”

But that’s the thing - I haven’t. Every time she’s gone to the pool, my eyes are everywhere but on her. I don’t trust my face enough not to give away just how sexy I find her. Her legs are long but muscular from riding; her ass is the perfect roundness that begs for your teeth to sink into it. Her waist is thin, taut, and her breasts are the perfect amount for my hand. And that’s all from the brief amount of looking I’ve allowed myself when she has clothes on.

If the universe could have designed the perfect woman for me, every inch of her would be Tatiana. I know I should feel gross about our age difference, but I don’t. I never had any inappropriate thoughts about her when she was younger. It was when she moved out to college and really started to grow as a person that I noticed how irresistible she is. When she started dating, I started seeing her as a woman.

The water is cold at first, but I welcome its bite.

Tati sucks in a gasp, though, and I think moves it to the side.

Keeping my eyes closed, I let her do whatever she wants to me. Her soapy hands start on my shoulder and work their way down my arm. She’s rubbing torturous circles on my skin, way slower than I would have done. Like she’s enjoying this. Like she’s savoring the contact.

She works her way down my forearm before taking my hand in hers and wrapping her other hand around every single one of my fingers. Giving each a pump or two, and yeah... now I’m hard as a rock.

I’m sure she can see the tented towel, if she’s looking.

Her hands disappear, and I startle as they find my thigh on the same side. If she’s kneeling...

Nope. Not going there. Going to keep my eyes shut like a good boy. She does the same torturously slow rubbing massage down my thigh, around my knee, down my calf, and she gives my foot the same sweet attention.

I’ve never had another person touch my feet. I should be embarrassed, but I’m not sure I could be more than I already am. Keeping my eyes closed, I sink into the moment. Whatever is going to happen is going to happen. Tati wants to take care of me, and I’ll never tell her ‘no’. My body is hers to do with as she pleases.

She takes her time working up my other leg, my other shoulder and arm. The showerhead must have a wand attachment because warm water suddenly follows the path her hands just traced. I’m so hard I’m aching, and I want so badly to give in to the temptation and give myself a squeeze, but I won’t. I don’t want to make her uncomfortable.

“Tilt your head back?” She whispers, and her voice is so low, so intimate, with just us in here. So, I do.

The warm stream hits my hairline and then drops back to the rest of my head before disappearing. When her hands touch me again, she’s in my hair. Both hands, ten fingertips, massage shampoo through my hair, and it’s the best goddamn feeling in the world. I shiver, and my entire body breaks out in goosebumps.

Fuck! I want this. I want her. I want there to be some solution - some path forward - where this can be us every day. Where I can touch her freely - where she can touch me freely. Where the weight of her mother’s expectations on her, her father’s expectations on me, and the danger of her mafia connections is gone. Where we can just be. Where all we have to worry about is her, and me, and Mik, and Lev. I wish we could stay in this cabin forever and ignore the outside world.

But right now, in this moment, they don’t have to exist. We can pretend that she’s just a girl, and I’m just a man.

I lean forward, finally giving in to temptation. Just a bit. My forehead connects with her stomach, and I rest it there, keeping my eyes closed. I know my hair is clean, but she doesn’t move to rinse it. She just keeps massaging it, like she doesn’t want this moment to end either.

So, I push my luck and push this moment even farther. She’s standing between my knees, so I let my fingertips trace up the back of her thighs delicately. This could be crossing a line for her. This could be the thing that pushes her over her limits, and I’m two seconds from being fired.

But she doesn’t. We must sit like this for an hour, her fingers through my hair, mine caressing up and down the back of her thighs - taking a touch that doesn’t belong to me, but that I’m selfishly taking.

Because I am only just a man. And giving into this moment of temptation will have to tide me over.

When the water starts to get cold, the wand returns, and she works the water through my hair, rinsing the shampoo out.

Something touches my scruffy chin and tilts my head back up. I open my glazy eyes to find hers - the dark blue of her irises almost being swallowed by her pupils. She looks like an angel.

Her hands return to my face with some kind of soap, and she takes her time massaging it into my cheeks, nose, and forehead before running it through the short beard I’ve grown since the hospital.

She’s looking at where her fingers are touching me, forehead wrinkled in concentration, as if my face is the most delicate thing she’s ever touched. I’ve never had a woman look at me like I was important before. Sure, one-night stands are fun and flirty, but they don’t know me. Not really. No one has really seen me in the way that Tatiana has. No one’s bothered even looking.

Fuck, I like the way that that makes me feel. Seen. Appreciated. Cared for.

I close my eyes again as she brings the water back, washing the soap from my face. When I open my eyes again, she’s just holding my face in her hand, cupping my cheek with her palm.

The air between us is heavy with the weight of all the things we want to say, but can’t. All the rules I want to break, but know I can’t.