Page 34 of Ruin

Claire rolled her eyes and shrugged as she reached her hand out for a robe. “If you say so.”

I ignored her attempt, placing the robes on a hook outside the shower instead. My steps slowed as I walked toward her, guiding her with my body as I nudged her into the shower.

As the warm water cascaded over Claire’s back, she exclaimed, “Hey, my bra is still on!”

“Do you want me to take it off for you?” I asked, my eyes were intense as I scanned the damp undergarments that clung to her sandy skin.

Claire looked down at our bodies, her expression a mixture of hesitation and desire. “It can stay on.”

I shrugged as I looked down at my boxers, the water washing the sea and sand down the drain. “Whatever you want. I will leave mine on, as well,” I replied in a deep, steady voice.

Without pause, my body pressed into hers as I lifted her up into my arms and pressed her back against the stone wall. Her legs wrapped around my waist as I buried my face into her neck, inhaling her scent mixed with the salty sea.

“I thought we were having dinner,” Claire asked breathlessly, her voice a soft murmur as her fingers grasped at my back.

My fingers searched her body, finally reaching the back of her head and gathering her hair into a fist. I pulled gently at the base of her head until her back arched into me. “You are dinner,” I whispered into the crook of her neck, my voice low as my teeth scraped her neck. I felt her shiver as she flung her head back further into my grasp, moaning my name softly.

The raw desire was rising within me like the steam that surrounded us, but the darkness within began to stir.

I can do it right now. Right here. She won’t see it coming.

Primal urges grew stronger. My body pressed deeper into hers, but I felt myself start to lose control.

Slow down.

I gently sat Claire down on her feet, trying to regain my composure.

“Why’d you stop?” she asked, a hint of confusion in her voice.

I turned away, reaching for the body wash and a washcloth to conceal any sign of my inner turmoil. “Would not want you thinking I do this with every woman who shows up to the hotel alone,” I remarked, meeting her eyes once more with a calm, composed expression.

Claire stood with her back against the wet stone. She held her arms just behind her back, her left hand tightly grasping her right forearm. Her eyes remained fixed on me, searching for something deeper.

“Even if you did. That doesn’t mean I don’t want it,” she said, her voice stern.

I approached her slowly, my gaze softening as I lowered my chin to her. “Or…we can shower, eat dinner together, continue getting to know each other, and then maybe, just maybe, you will realize how crazy I am about you.”

Claire stood in awe, her expression a mix of wonder and uncertainty. I could see the conflict in her eyes as she tried to make sense of my words.

I reached out, caressing her skin with a sudsy washcloth. As I meticulously studied every inch of her body, memorizing every freckle and scar, I could feel the thickness of desire filling the air around us. The moment was suspended in time, and I was determined to cherish it, to show her the depth of my feelings—even as the darkness within me lay in wait.

As Claire’s arms fell to her sides, I took my time washing her. My hands moved slowly, circling her skin to gently wipe away the remnants of sand and seawater. I could feel her relax under my touch, her body responding to the water’s warmth and the softness of my hands. She inhaled deeply, closing her eyes as if surrendering to the moment.

“Your turn,” Claire said with a playful note in her voice, a hint of a smile on her lips as she felt me pause.

I handed her the washcloth and watched as she took it from me. Her movements were deliberate and sensual as she glided the cloth across my collarbones, then traced it down my firm chest and along my slender torso, bubbles cascading over delicate muscles and the deep cut of my hips. Her eyes focused intently on her task, yet there was a playful glint in them as she took in the contours of my body.

“Your back now,” she instructed firmly, her tone brooking no argument.

I turned around obediently, feeling her fingers press against my back as she washed me. Her touch was meticulous, moving over every muscle and bone, exploring the hard lines of my physique. I felt her hands linger on my legs, just below the waistband of my boxer briefs before she returned the washcloth to the hook.

We stood silently as we took turns washing and conditioning our own hair, our eyes meeting as we rinsed off under the rain shower. The silence was charged with unspoken words, each of us studying the other with a mixture of curiosity and desire.

As we dried off, the plush white bath sheets absorbed the excess water from our skin. We faced away from each other, removing our wet undergarments and taking turns hanging them from the shower knobs. Wrapped in soft, white robes, we moved silently through the bathroom.

I came dangerously close to losing it with her earlier. That cannot happen again.

“I need a hairbrush,” Claire remarked as she stood quietly, waiting for me to finish tying the belt around my robe as I made my way to the pedestal sink.