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Hope filled her stare. “He is?”
I eased my grip on her chin and grazed my callused fingers along her jaw, catching drops of water on the way. “Blood means fucking nothing. You should know that by now.”
She did. I knew she did. This woman standing in front of me wasn’t the kid our parents dumped in our house anymore. No, she was stronger, harder. She wasours.
Ryth swallowed the pain and nodded. “You’re right. Fuck what they say.”
I smiled. “That’s it, baby, fuck what they say.”
I dropped my hand, reached around, and hit the tap, ending the spray. Water ran in rivulets down my chest, drawing her gaze. I saw her desire, saw the moment her breaths deepened, and that perfect fucking mark on her cheek blushed.
“You want to touch me, little mouse?”
Her eyes darted to mine and she nodded. I stood there with the cold closing in, making my damn leg shake. Still, I didn’t let her see that. My nipples tightened. She liked that, brushing her soft fingers across my chest. A tremor rippled through me. Fuck, she was dangerous. She was so fucking dangerous and she didn’t have a goddamn clue.
No one got this close to me.
Not even blood.
She stepped closer and lowered her head. Her warm tongue brushed my nipple, making me close my eyes. My pulse thundered, booming in my goddamn ears. But she lifted her head with barely more than a lick and stepped backwards, reaching for the towel instead.
“I’m taking care of you, Tobias.” There was a sternness in her tone.
Tobias?
Okay…
The corners of my lips tugged up as she dragged the towel across my body. But I knew what she was doing, masking the exploration of my body with this need to comfort and care for me.
“Arms up,” she muttered.
That birthmark grew a little redder as I did, letting her run the towel down over my hard muscles and grazed skin. She winced at every cut, and her nostrils flared as she gently dried over the bruise. “I’ll get you to the bed.”
I gave a nod, leaned on her, and limped out of the bathroom. Agony drove deep, causing me to stumble and fall onto the bed. I hit hard and lay there, catching my breath. Then I inched backwards, drawing my legs onto the bed.
“I’m sorry,” she moaned.
I forced a smile through the pain. “It’s not your fault, princess.” I patted the bed. “Climb up.”
“I’m dripping.”
The words only made me grin. I opened my eyes, finding her standing beside the bed, and patted the mattress, this time more softly. “Show me.” She shook her head, but she didn’t leave. No. She didn’t leave. She was thinking about it. “I want to see what you showed Nick that day in the car.”
That blush deepened.
Fuck.
“When you were in his Mustang, leaning your head back, your fingers in that—” I licked my lips and lowered my gaze. “That perfect cunt.”
“T…” she whispered.
She liked it when I talked like that, liked it more than she wanted to. “A good girl who likes her cunt looked at.”
She bit her lip, dragging those teeth across the soft, plump flesh. Then she moved, climbing onto the bed with my brother's t-shirt stuck against her breasts.
“Take the shirt off.” I dragged my gaze over her. Her tiny puckered nipples tightened as I spoke.
She glanced toward the door.
