12
Adley
Lincoln stares at my hand, wraps his fingers around mine, and steps into the shower. Releasing my hand, he pulls me in front of him, my back to his chest, and holds me close as the water rains down around us.
He sighs as if the water just washed the weight of the world from his shoulders, and his hold on me tightens.
Lincoln works hard—harder than anyone I know. On top of that, he cares for his father and watches out for his sister and somehow finds time to spend with me. But who’s been taking care of him?
No one.
My heart constricts at the thought, and I vow to make sure this man is taken care of the way he deserves, the way I’ve failed to do so many times over the last five months.
I turn in his arms, reach around his big body, and grab the shampoo.
Lincoln opens his eyes and looks down at me. “What are you doing?”
“I’m going to wash your hair.”
“I thought I was supposed to be taking care of you.”
“You will. But I want to take care of you first.”
“No way.” He holds his hand out for the bottle, but I clench it close to me.
“Please,” I beg. “Please let me do this. You’re always looking out for me and making sure I have everything I need. Now I want to do something for you.”
“You do a lot for me.”
I shake my head. “No, I don’t, but that’s going to change.”
His gaze is unyielding, and about the time I think he’s going to yank the shampoo from my hands, he surprises me by turning around.
Lincoln is taller than me, but with his head tilted back, I can easily reach him. I work the shampoo until his head is covered in bubbles. I take the time to massage his scalp. Pushing my thumbs into the skin at the base of is skull, I move them in circular motions down his neck and over his shoulders.
His body is tight, but it relaxes under my hands, and I keep going until the two knots I found are gone. Then I turn him around.
“Rinse.”
He steps under the spray, shakes his hair out the way men do, and finds the bottle of shampoo.
“Your turn.”
I’ve never had a man wash my hair, but when Lincoln’s large hands slide against my scalp, I can easily see why this is a thing. His fingers are gentle as he works the rain fresh scent into my hair before rinsing it out and repeating the process with my conditioner.
“Can you hand me the loofah?”
I grab the black loofah from the hook and hand it to him. He squirts on a blob of body wash and motions for me to turn around.
Gathering my hair at the nape of my neck, I hold it up, allowing him to start at the top of my back. Lincoln runs the loofah along my shoulder blades, over my ass, and down the backs of my thighs. He gently grabs my left ankle, and I steady myself with a hand on the shower wall so he can lift my foot. He washes each foot and then glides the loofah up the backs of my calves, stopping at the bend in my knee.
“Open up for me, sweetheart.”
I move my left foot out, creating a wide gap between my legs. I’m completely open to him, all of my most private parts on full display, and I couldn’t be more comfortable because I know that with him I’m always safe.
The loofah glides over each inner thigh before slipping through my folds. His touch is so tender that I close my eyes and will myself not to cry.
Jesus, Adley, get a grip.