Page 58 of Taking the Heat

‘I don’t have to. I want to.’ I pulled him to his feet and into the bathroom.

He followed me like a kite on a sting, too fatigued to argue.

Night had fallen, and the bathroom was lit by three flickering artificial candles. The semi-darkness was almost womb-like, the tiled room a silent, safe place. Chris stood in front of me as I stripped off his filthy pants and crusty vest. I hooked my thumbs on the waistband of his boxers, pulling them down. It wasn’t sexy, the way it had been between us before, but there was an intimacy to caring for him I found even more sensual.

I’d showered before leaving my room, but I quickly shed my shorts and tee, and the two of us stood, naked but beyond modesty.

Manoeuvring Chris into the shower, I sat him on the ledge in under the nozzles. He closed his eyes as I ran the water, keeping it gentle and warm. I left one nozzle raining down on us, and lifted the other off its cradle, directing the flow onto Chris’ skin.

As delicately as I could, I washed the storm away. With a mild body wash, I soaped up a shower puff and ran it over his broad, damaged shoulders, pulling splinters and embedded muck from the shallow cuts in his flesh. He shivered as I shampooed his hair, cleansing him, rinsing off the hurt. I ran my fingers through the thick strands, using my nails to scrape along his scalp and he moaned, helpless against my ministrations.

Once I’d sprayed the lather away, I turned my attention to his lower body. His feet were like blackened stumps; I dropped to my knees to bathe them, doubling up on the soap. His strong calves were like steel under my fingers, and the dense leg hairs had grime trapped in a dozen places.

When his feet were clean, I squirted an extra glob of body wash into my hands and softly, so softly, cleaned his face, concentrating on his stubbled chin and grubby brow. He leaned into my fingers, groaning and almost asleep.

With utmost care, I used the last of the soap to carefully bath his gorgeous manhood, lying long and thick against his thigh. Shuddering, he allowed me to clean his most private of places, trusting me with his body.

The soap washed down the drain, I shut off the water and grabbed two fluffy bath sheets. Working over his skin, I dried up every nook and cranny, taking care over the cuts and grazes, and special caution when drying between his legs.

Towelling myself off quickly, I grasped both of his hands and pulled him to his feet. Supporting him, I moved us out to the bedroom.

‘This is not how I pictured the first time we’d be naked together,’ he murmured, eyes lidded low.

‘I won’t be the last time,’ I promised.

I lowered him to the cotton sheets, arranging a light cover over his nude form. Once he was horizontal, Chris visibly relaxed into the mattress, turning his face to the pillow. I thought he was unconscious, but as I moved away to fill another glass of water, he gripped my wrist. ‘You won’t leave, will you?’

Blue eyes strained to keep me in focus, and I reassured him. ‘No, baby, I’ll be here all night and right next to you when I wake up in the morning.’

‘I love you, Tara.’ They were his last words before submitting to sleep.

I arranged water glasses and debated whether or not to put my clothes back on. Exhaustion won out, and I sank into the bed next to him.

My body sought him like a magnet, and I curled to his side, our flesh moulding together as I drifted off to sleep, happy to breathe the same air as him.

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Transcript of Tara M’s video diary: Day 14

I slept deeply, with no dreams or interruptions. It was as if Chris’ presence was a sleep aid, lulling me into a state of complete relaxation. Unconscious for about twelve hours, the first sensation to rouse me was the feeling of tender lips on my neck.

If it was a dream, it was a happy one. The mouth on me raised goose bumps wherever it moved, across my collarbone and down to the space between my breasts. I moaned, yielding to the sensation as the lips dipped lower and pressed against the flat plane of my stomach.

I raised my hands to the head caressing my body. A tongue darted out and swirled around in my belly button, causing me to gasp at the rush of heat and liquid to my core.

The head moved lower and a sudden series of nips to my upper thighs sparked me awake.

It wasn’t a dream; the brilliant sunshine poured in the windows and Chris grinned up at me from between my naked legs. ‘Good morning, gorgeous.’

‘Feeling better?’ I breathed, although it wasn’t really a question. His cheeks were flushed and his chest heaved. His fingers never stopped moving, cupping around the firm globes of my backside.

‘This is the best I’ve ever felt.’ His answer was honest and I smiled back at his sparking baby blues.

Raising my arms above my head, I gave him permission to continue. He did, with gusto.

He thrust my thighs apart and I mewled a little. He crawled back up my body, bowing his head to my left nipple. His lips were molten as he sucked the hard bud into his mouth, rolling his tongue around it. My eyes closed, unable to function in the face of so much pleasure.

As he worked one nipple with his mouth, he caught the other in his fingers, pulling and pinching it to maximum firmness. I squirmed under his attention, bucking my hips to his chest, feeling the growing moisture flowing, desperate for what came next.

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