Page 11 of Protecting Olivia

“It’s not a trick question. There’s no right or wrong answer.”

Call me stupid, but ultimately my decision was made because when he carried me out of that shit hole of a room, and when the house exploded, he saved me. He made sure that I was protected even if that meant he would be injured.

“I trust you,” I answered.

“I’m going to help you in the shower. Are you still wearing a bra and panties?” he asked.

Holy hell! He did not just ask me about my panties. I looked down at my bare feet and the torn hem of the dress I had been wearing since the day I’d been taken. Of course, I couldn’t have been kidnapped while out jogging when I had on proper clothes and sneakers. No, not me. I was taken from a nightclub, in a dress and heels. A very short dress that left very little to the imagination.

“I’m wearing panties. No bra,” I answered honestly.

“Here’s what we’re going to do. I’m getting in the shower with you. You’re too weak to stand in there by yourself. Leave on your panties, and I am going to leave on my tee and boxers. But I have a rule, and this is non-negotiable. I have to lock the door.”

“Why?” I blurted out. Out of everything he told me, I was questioning why he wanted the door locked. I was an idiot.

“If my gun is not strapped on, the door is locked. It doesn’t matter if my team are the only ones in the next room,” he explained.

I didn’t understand why that was a rule or even a thought. But I didn’t live his life, I had never even touched a gun. Now that I thought about it, a locked door paled in comparison to being in a tight space with a man who was trained to kill. Gun or no gun. If he wanted to hurt me, the door wouldn’t have to be locked for him to do it.

“Okay,” I said.

“Okay to what?” he asked.

“To all of it,” I clarified.

He reached over and locked the door. He was so big and the room was so small, he reached in the shower and turned the water on without having to take a step.

“Hold on to the sink while I undress,” he instructed and started to remove his vest. I watched with rapt attention as he laid his gear on a small toiletry stand. First his gun and his knife, then he toed off his boots and his pants came off next. It doesn’t matter what situation you’re in, there was something erotic about watching a man take off his socks. He had nice feet, and those feet led to a pair of muscular legs. His thighs must’ve been as big around as my waist. That was a slight exaggeration, but not by much.

Once he was done undressing, he reached back in the shower to check the water.

“It’s ready.” Leo came to stand behind me. Unfortunately, the mirror above the sink had started to fog, and I could no longer see him. “I’m going to unzip your dress now.”

His thoughtfulness put me at ease. I might’ve had another panic attack if he had touched me without warning me first.

I sucked in a breath and readied myself. I had never showered with a man before, it was too intimate. I preferred not to get too close to any of the frat boys I had been with.

Even over the rushing of the water, I could hear the teeth of my zipper pull apart, or maybe that was the sound of my heartbeat roaring in my ears.

“You’re doing great. The zipper is down, go ahead and let the dress fall to the ground.”

I hadn’t realized I had let go of the sink and was now clutching my dress to my chest. It was now or never. The faster this was over the faster I could see my mom. I mentally counted to three and dropped the dress. The fabric pooled around my feet. All I had to do was step over the material and get into the shower. It wasn’t like I hadn’t been naked in front of a man before. Hell, most of the men I had been with in the past year I didn’t even bother to get their names. Why did it feel so different being naked in front of this man?

“I’m ready,” I told him.

Chapter Seven

Leo

I was one dumb son of a bitch.

I think the explosion must’ve knocked any sense I had left clear out of my brain.

Let’s get naked and take a shower together?

Fuck me, I’m an idiot.

I’d like to believe that my reasons were pure that I merely wanted to help Olivia get cleaned up so her ma could come in and see her. Pamela had to be going out of her mind worried. Yet, I had no business offering to wash this girl. We should’ve called in Jasmin. Not that her bedside manner was any better than mine, but at least she was a woman.