Page 45 of Silent Heart

Kole reached out again, his thumb tugging my lip free. His focused gaze seemed to lay a claim on my mouth. “I want to join you. But I don’t want to crowd you.”

“You won’t!” I gasped, the words exploding in a burst of air.

“Alright then.” Kole nodded once and then shepherded me into the glass stall.

He took the shampoo and began to lather it up. It was manly smelling, but it was a better quality than the drugstore products I used. He paused as if asking permission.

“Sure,” I smiled.

Body braced behind me, he began to massage the soap into my scalp.

The heat from the water, the buzz of electricity from the beast behind me, and the tender touch sent mixed signals through my mind. I was both lulled into bliss and teeming with indecision.

“Ask.” Kole turned me, tipping my head back under the spray.

I stared up into his blue eyes. “Ask what?”

It was the coward’s way. We both knew it.

“Ask why I said you shouldn’t stay,” he breathed.

I closed my eyes, unable to look at him while I rephrased the question. “Why do you push me away only to pull me closer?”

Kole hummed under his breath, pulling a dry washcloth from the basket hanging on the wall outside the shower, and quickly shut the door so the steam wouldn’t escape. He worked the soap into the material.

I reached for the cloth, but he shook his head.

Was I doing this? Letting a strangerwashme?

And if I was, why did I like it so much?

“I had a head and upper back injury. It didn’t used to be an issue, but over the years curious symptoms cropped up. The doctors aren’t much help, throwing their pills at me and suggesting surgeries without guaranteeing results.” His voice was rich and soothing, as the cloth worked little circles down my body. I reclosed my eyes and let the myriad of sensations wash over me. “The vague medical term for my current state is chronic fatigue due to a traumatized major nerve line. I don’t sleep, and if I do, it’s not for long, neither is it enough. When exhaustion finally takes over, the symptoms are that I go into an unresponsive state. I’m not in control, Harley. These stints are unpredictable and without a pattern.”

The stream of falling water filled the next few moments. I felt like I should say something but didn’t know what that was.

His next words were raw. “I don’t remember anything, Harley.”

I nodded. “That’s typical of trauma injuries—not that I’m a doctor,” I added.

Kole hummed. He tapped my thighs. I reluctantly opened to him. Kole rubbed the cloth between them and over my pussy. I gasped at the contact, cheeks no doubt cherry red. No one had washed me, not since I was a child. And that was completely different. I surrendered to the situation, deciding not to let myself be embarrassed.

The cloth worked down my legs, circling first one and then the other knee. Kole brought my hand to his shoulder, balancing me, before lifting my feet in turn to rub and clean. It tickled. But it also felt really nice. The pressure from his touch increased. He massaged the aches away, working the muscles.

When he put the second one down, he settled his hands around my thighs, fingers resting just under my ass. My pussy pulsed, ready for more.

His next words were a dash of cold water.

“I’ve hurt people, Harley. People I’m close to,” he confessed, voice raw with a desperation for me to understand.

I opened my eyes and gazed down at him. “You’ve been nothing but gentle with me.”

“I can’t live with myself if I hurt you,” he insisted. “Notyou.”

Why?What would make him say that? I wanted to believe it was more than just being a good man or a nice neighbor.

“I don’t think you will,” I began and pressed my fingers harder into his shoulder to silence his protest. “I’ve spent my whole life around animals.”

Kole snorted.

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