Page 46 of Drag You Down
The cat suddenly meows, and Gabriel’s attention breaks. He looks at the tub, where the cat is dipping its paw into the very full tub.
“Thanks for the warning, Ichabod,” Gabriel says. He gets up to turn off the water, leaving me standing naked in the cool air of the bathroom.
I’m still trembling, but I don’t think it has to do with the temperature of the bathroom. It has everything to do with the fact that I’ve allowed another man to see me naked, another man who clearly lusts for me.
A man I lust for in turn, and it’s sowrong.
Put to death therefore what is earthly in you: sexual immorality, impurity, passion, evil desire,I think.
I can’t.
They’re too much a part of me now.
“Can I get in?” I ask, my voice high and strange as I near the bathtub. I try to keep myself positioned so he can’t easily see the way my cock strains and bobs with each step, but I know he can.
“Of course.” Gabriel extends his hand to me, and I realize he means to help me into the tub.
I take it. It’s warm, shockingly so, and his touch is firm and comforting in a way it has no right to be.
He helps me into the tub, and it’s so full that the water threatens to slosh over the sides. Anxiety flares inside of me, and I go very still to avoid making a mess of his bathroom floor. It doesn’t quite work, and water splashes out. “Sorry!” I say quickly. My heart races as I prepare myself for admonishment — at the very least. He’s going to regret having taken me here.
Maybe that’s for the best.
But Gabriel shrugs. “I’ll mop it up later.”
I don’t understand the tears that threaten to spill out of my eyes. Why wouldthis, out of everything, make me want to cry? I should have cried the first day we met, when I’d felt him clawinto my soul, not because he didn’t even look at the mess I’d made!
He pulls the ottoman closer so he can sit beside the tub. He dangles one hand into the water. “How’s the temperature?”
“It’s good,” I say.
It’s better than good.
It’s warm and comforting, and it feels like a hug.
It shouldn’t.
It’s an indulgence I haven’t earned, an indulgence I shouldn’t enjoy.
My hand comes up again, toying with the crucifix around my throat. “Why did you buy me this?” I ask him, unable to keep myself from asking the question any longer.
“It was something you would like,” Gabriel says. He picks up a bath sponge and pours something that smells flowery on it. “You didn’t take the watch. Was it too flashy for you? But the crucifix is perfect.”
He starts to lather up my body, attending to me like he’s a bathhouse slave.
I’m still not convinced there wasn’t a hidden meaning behind it. “But why a crucifix? Why not a cross?” I press.
He smiles at me. “A cross can’t shield you from demons.”
“It’s very thoughtful of you,” I say despite the fierce pang of regret, “but I can’t keep it.”
“Why not?” he asks.
“Father Zachariah will want to know where I got it,” I tell him. “My sister… She saw it, too.”
Once, I would’ve thought it would be our secret. Now, though, as she gets closer and closer to finding her purpose as one of his wives, she seems less and less willing to protect me.
Maybe she shouldn’t.
