She braces her hands on the sides of the tub and lifts herself up off me. I grab hold of the bar on the tile wall, and pull myself up after her. Then it’s just the two of us, standing before each other in a too small space, and it feels like things have come full circle. There’s a weight to the moment that I can’t describe, beyond the fact that I love her and she loves me. More than the importance of her secrets. I’ve never really been the type to believe in fate. I couldn’t stand by while my father dismantled the family he was supposed to love and provide for and say, ‘Things happen for a reason.’
But now?
I know in my heart that we’re exactly where we’re supposed to be. And if there were ever a reason to believe in a bigger plan, Kalli is it. She’s the only fate I want any part of.
I take the hem of her dress again, and this time she doesn’t resist when I begin to pull it up her body. She raises her long, lithe arms, and I keep dragging until the fabric is completely over her head. I ball it up and throw it on the bathmat just outside the curtain. As soon as we’re out of here, I have every intention of tossing that blood-stained thing in the trash.
Kalli stands before me in her bra and underwear. I turn her around, and when I run my fingers from her neck down to the clasp, she trembles in front of me. I drop it outside the curtain too, and then tuck my fingers under the fabric around her hips. Then she’s standing in front of me bare, and there’s a smudge of dried blood where her shoulder meets her neck.
I grab a bar of soap and work up a lather between my hands. Gently, I rub at the skin there until it’s nothing but smooth, unblemished perfection. I keep going, cleaning her shoulders and her back, then down her arms. Even when I don’t see any hint of blood on her. When I turn her toward me, she doesn’t hesitate. She lifts her chin as I take in the faint trail from where the blood had run down her face and neck until it met her clothes. My stomach clenches, but I force focus and calm, gentling my touch as much as I can.
I start with her hair, trading soap for shampoo, and gently work at the blood that’s still clumped along her hairline where the wound had been. I focus there for a little while, then add shampoo to the rest of her hair, watching carefully to make sure none drips down her forehead. She tilts her head back, making it easy for me, and I loop one arm around her middle before nudging her to slant her head back farther, into the spray of the water. Her bare stomach presses tight against mine, and I can’t do anything to control the hard-on that presses at her through my wet jeans.
I use my free hand to angle her head back and help rinse the shampoo from her hair. It’s thick and long, and it takes forever for the shampoo to wash out. I can tell she’s tired, so I cup my hand around the back of her neck, so she doesn’t have to hold the weight up anymore. When her hair is fully rinsed, she lays her cheek against my chest and laughs softly.
“What’s so funny?” I murmur, scooping up water in my hand to pour along her shoulders and collar bone as I hold her.
“I think you used a fourth of a bottle of shampoo in my hair.”
I frown. “You have a lot of hair. And I wanted to make sure all the blood was out.”
She laughs again, a little harder this time, and it feels so damn good to have her in my arms again. I missed that laugh. “You only really need to put shampoo at the top. The rest gets clean enough as you rinse it out.”
I take her long hair in my fists, squeezing out the excess water.
“I’ll remember that for next time.”
I use a finger against her chin to tilt her face up so I can clean the rest of the blood off, but her eyes have gone vacant at my last words.
“There will be a next time, Kalli.”
I pull away from her long enough to poke my head out of the curtain and snag a washcloth from a shelf on the wall outside. I wet it with warm water and a little soap, and begin cleaning off her face and neck with as much care as possible. When I’m done, I let out a relieved breath and hang the washcloth over the bar on the wall.
“How is it that I always end up fully clothed in a shower with you?” I ask, trying to find at least a little levity in this heavy day.
“You’re not technically fully clothed.”
I’d taken my shirt off to use as pressure on her head out in the rain. And I’d at least lost my shoes and socks before stepping in after her this time.
“Wet jeans are wet jeans, sweet.”
She bites her lip, her eyes trailing down over my chest. She lingers for a moment at the tattoos on my arms, even reaching out to span her fingers over the Atlas figure. Her fingers tighten around my forearm, and her gaze travels the rest of the way down.
I see the moment she comes to a decision, releasing that bottom lip and my arm, reaching for the button of my jeans instead.
Maybe I should have stopped her. Maybe that would’ve been the gentlemanly thing to do. But the need to touch and claim her rides me hard. It’s not just the supernatural stuff or the thought of all the relationships she’s had in her past or the scare we had tonight.
I also just fucking missed her.
Like I’ve been living blind for the last three months, I don’t want to blink for even one second as I soak up everything about her.
She pushes my jeans and underwear down over my hips, and I take over dragging them the rest of the way off. The wet material sticks stubbornly to my skin, but soon enough, I toss them out of the shower to land with her clothing. Her fingers graze along my hip before trailing up my side to my ribs. Her eyes follow her movement, still hesitant, so I keep my hands at my sides, waiting for her move.
She swallows and whispers, “I missed you.”
I smile. “You took the words right out of my head.”
With her face still tilted down toward my abdomen, her eyes lift just enough to meet mine. I can read the longing in her plain as day, but she’s still scared. If she needs me to be the one to make that final push, I will. And I won’t regret it for a second.
I touch my thumb to her bottom lip, tracing the fullness, feeling the tease of breath on my skin.
“Three months was too long to go without kissing you.”
I bend, replacing my thumb with my mouth to suck her bottom lip between my teeth. The hand on my ribs slides around to my lower back, and her body falls against mine. When I cover my mouth with hers, whatever hesitancy she felt is long gone, and she kisses me back fiercely. Her fingers dig into my back, and the feel weights me in the moment at the same time that it sends need barreling down my spine. I pick up her other hand and drag it up to wrap around my neck.