Page 23 of Fear the Reaper
Touch me.
Just once. Trail your fingertips down my spine. Please?
But, I kept wants to myself and was happy when he turned away from me again, so I could get undressed. I took a few extra seconds to make sure I wouldn’t have some random towel wardrobe malfunction then held my breath. “I’m done.”
He turned slightly, looked at me then shifted on his heels to face me completely. “Good.” He sat on the rim of the bathtub and grabbed my bag. “Close the toilet and sit on the seat.”
As I did as he asked he pulled out the small canister of shaving cream, then the razer. “I didn’t think women still shaved,” he said, uncapping both and squirting some cream into his hands. “I thought all of you were using these hair remover things.”
“I don’t know, Reaper.” I watched him intently. “A cream to make your hair fall off? I don’t know how that’s healthy for anyone’s body.”
He chuckled. “Okay, lift your leg to my thigh.”
“Um…”
“Star?”
I sighed and did as he asked, pressing a hand on the towel between my legs to keep myself modest.
Reaper lathered my leg with the shaving cream, his large hands moving over my skin slowly. He then rinsed his hand in the tub, wet the razer and began passing it carefully over my skin. To my surprise, he shaved against the grain, ensuring to get each line of cream as he went. Periodically, he’d rinse the razer in the running water before returning to his job.
When he began my next leg, I was surprised, not one nick.
“Where did you learn to do this?”
“I shave my face regularly,” he said. “I figured it would be almost the same thing. Hold still. I don’t want to cut you.”
There was no way to hide the smile that swarmed my face. He’d been taking so much care with what he was doing. My heart melted then and the rage that had caused him to enter in the first place vanished. Still, I allowed him to continue.
In the silence of the room, I couldn’t help wondering if he’d done this for the other women he’d been with. With the same mind, I grew jealous of those others. They’d seen him—all of him—felt him and knew what he was capable of in their beds. I was a mere job.
He tapped my thigh gently to gain my attention and I managed a smile. He was finished with my legs. But Reaper didn’t stop there. He removed his shirt and climbed into the tub with me. Maverick Forge’s body was as perfect as I’d imagined. His chest and abs were hard and perfectly sculpted.
“Star?”
“Sorry. I don’t really trust my legs right now.” I lied. “My knees are a little weak.”
“Do you want to lay down for a bit?”
“No.” I pulled the towel away from my body, covering my breasts with my hands and turned my back for him to gather my hair, undo the braid and saturate the strands with shampoo.
His strong fingers massaging my scalp drew a moan from me. I couldn’t have controlled it. There was something so overwhelmingly beautiful about a man washing a woman’s hair. Maybe it was just me—but I couldn’t help thinking how much more sexy it would be if Reaper was my man while shaving me. I sighed.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“Are you sure?”
“No—I’m not sure.”
As he rinsed the conditioner from my hair, I resigned myself to imagine. There was nothing wrong with delving into my mind and fantasize Reaper was mine. That every hard, toned, beautiful inch of him belonged to me and I could kiss and touch all of him.
I turned in his arms—all thought of modesty gone. The clear water flowing over his skin made me delirious with arousal. I just couldn’t stand how good he looked to me then.
Instead, I me his gaze as he pushed strands of hair from my face and pared the water away with his large palms. Feeling his chest under my palms was magical. He was warm and inviting and all I wanted to do then was be closer to him.
Instead of speaking, I pushed upward and brushed my lips against his.
