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Fuck…
Raine is still studying me, I realize, and I try to suppress another shiver. Are we done now, or does he expect me to suck him? Or fuck?
I’m so damn exhausted, but it doesn’t stop my dick from twitching at the thought. What the hell, right?
What in the fucking hell.
“Close your eyes,” he says and I turn to stare at him instead.
“Why?”
“Just close your eyes.”
Licking my lips, I try to get a cue from his expression, but it’s blank, except for a tightening at the corners of his lips, which could mean he’s angry, or just impatient.
Fuck it. Why am I fighting it tonight? Easier to give in. I’ve known guys who liked me blindfolded as they beat me up and fucked me over, so su
e me for not being thrilled at this development.
As I close my eyes and wait for something to happen, I try and fail not to tense up, my muscles seizing. My breathing turns faster, and there’s a weight on my chest.
God, enough already tonight. I can’t… I fucking can’t take anymore.
Fingertips brush over my jaw, and I squeeze my eyes more tightly, waiting, waiting.
“Jase,” he whispers, and I can’t even correct him, my teeth gritting so hard I’m probably wearing down my molars. “Relax.”
Easy for you to say, I wanna say, but see the above problem.
“It’s just water,” he says, and I frown, jerking a little when the shower starts again and rains down on me, cool at first, then getting warmer. “Keep your eyes closed.”
Scent of apples, then his fingertips slide up from my face to my hair.
“What are you… what are you doing?” Fuck, I hate that my voice breaks like that. It’s just that I can’t catch my breath, and his strong fingers massage my scalp, sending bolts of pleasure down my back. My dick stirs again, and my head swims.
“Washing you.”
“I, uh.”
His hand slides down the back of my neck, and I moan, unable to keep quiet. Oh shit. His thumb strokes my nape, and my dick fills out some more, lifting up from between my legs.
What the fuck? Why is he doing this?
God, don’t let him stop.
He strokes the back of my head, then his hands slide down my shoulders and to the front, over my chest, a thumb flicking at the piercing in my nipple, and hot need shoots straight to my cock.
An inarticulate sound leaves my throat, and my head falls back. My knees feel like rubber, unable to hold my weight.
And his hands travel over me, never touching my dick, circling my hips, smoothing over my back, over my ass, spreading the scent of apples and cleanness, water and warm skin until I don’t know what to do.
I grab for him, dizzy.
“Hey. All right?” He lets me hold on to him, on to his arms, as the water flows over me, warm and soft, melting away the tension, turning my muscles to jelly. It’s a wonder I’m still standing and haven’t oozed down to the floor in a puddle. “Jason.”
“’M all right,” I manage, but it’s wheezy. Fuck, I’m really wiped out, and the steam and heat of the water is making me loopy. Has to be that, because I think I hear worry in his voice, and that’s fucking crazy.
The guy hates me, hates the fact I’m a hooker, and that his brother dared spend any of his time on me when I was sick, and that was years ago.
