What a time to realize she hadn’t seen him completely naked before. The supply closet had been too dim, their encounter too hurried. But she looked him fully over now, taking in the raw strength of him. Not just bulging arms and muscular roped legs, but his ridged stomach, the breadth of his back declared his strength beyond anything she’d ever witnessed. She’d certainly seen all that strength in action, the power that couldn’t be gained from just pumping iron in a weight room.
And the tattoos. Plural. While she’d noticed the music scrolled across his chest, she definitely hadn’t noticed the green footprints inked on his calf. There was a story there, no doubt.
Except then he stepped into the water and her thoughts scattered. He sat behind her, bringing the water higher around them as his legs stretched out the length of the tub. His thick erection pressed against her back with a promise as large as everything else about the man.
He cupped her shoulders, guiding her to rest against his chest. “Relax…”
Really? Really? She was far from relaxed, with tension of another delicious kind seeping through her.
Then his hands slid forward to cup her br**sts and she eased down into the water, giving him fuller access to keep caressing, soothing. The lingering soap on his hands made his touch slick against her nipples. The calluses along the pads of his finger rasped an added pleasure with each stroke, touch, plucking. His hands splayed wide, palming her in his broad, possessive hold.
Heat pooled between her legs, a sensation that had more to do with Hugh than the shower. And from the way he throbbed against her spine as she moved, he was enjoying this every bit as much as she was. Although, she could take things even higher by being a more active participant.
Swiping the washrag from the hook and the bottle of homemade liquid soap, she lathered a cloth, eyeing his muscled hairy legs on either side of her. She skimmed her fingers carefully around the angry red scratch on his calf where Oliver had cut him during their struggle in the van.
She dabbed along the angry red line. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I’m a medic, remember?” He kissed and nipped down her neck and along her shoulder. “I can take care of myself. I’m also military, which means I get a crap ton of immunizations. Think tetanus times twenty.”
Her hand slowed along his leg, the water chilling around her. “In case you’re injured in the line of duty.”
“Uh-huh,” he mumbled against her neck.
“And have you been?”
He stroked down from her br**sts to her stomach, inching lower still until his fingertips were under the soapy water. And then he reached lower still, dipping one hand between her legs. “Do you really want to talk about that right now?”
Her knees parted and it was her own slickness, her arousal, that smoothed his touch back and forth along her plumped, oversensitive flesh.
“Guess not.” She shook her head against his chest, her breath hitching as his fingers dipped lower, lower… just low enough. “Oh… Definitely not.”>“No kidding.”
“You need to decompress, unwind.”
She choked on a laugh. “Are you propositioning me?”
“No… God, no.” He stroked back her tangled hair, his mind finally settling on a way he could help her, something productive he could do during this downtime until morning. “Not that I wouldn’t welcome the chance to be with you again, but it’s clear you need something else from me right now.”
“What would that be?”
His fingers forked through her silken blonde—dirty—locks. “I’m going to wash your hair.”
Chapter 13
Anticipation curling through her, Amelia looked from Hugh to the opaque curtain over the nursery nook, then back again. As he stood by the open bathroom door, his steady gaze met hers and she couldn’t miss his intent. She also couldn’t ignore the need inside her, the desire to be with him again.
Hugh raised an eyebrow along with a bottle of shampoo. “There’s homemade shampoo, and soap with bay geranium and another with orange sage, all locally grown, I’m guessing. Your choice. What do you say?”
“You’re offering to wash my hair?” She closed the last few steps between them and flattened her palms to his chest. Her fingers played along the soft cotton of his shirt.
“I live to serve.”
She looked up at him through her eyelashes. “Perhaps I can take care of that myself.”
“The nozzle on the shower is insanely low and I wouldn’t want you to get a backache.” He stroked along her scalp in a tempting, teasing preshow. “Thought I would do you a favor, since your hand is bandaged.”
“Hmmm… I had such good medical treatment, my hand hardly hurts at all.” She trailed her palms down his chest, over his abs, which were so ripped she could count through the six pack. “I could just sit in the tub and let all that amazing well water wash over me until I’m finally, finally clean.”
“Yes, you could.” He linked his fingers with hers and tugged. “Or you could sit in the tub while I clean every inch of you.”