Page 36 of Rocked By the Alpha
She twists to face the wall, knocking her elbow against him as she does.
“Sorry,” she says. “This shower isn’t really big enough for us both.”
“You going to buy a new place, then? Somewhere bigger?”
“There’s only me, I don’t need some mansion. Not like some people.” She nudges him with her elbow as he squirts the shampoo onto her head.
“I have a big family — I need a big place.”
“Are you telling me you’re secretly married with a tribe of kids?”
“No, but I have four sisters and a tribe of nephews and nieces.”
“Four sisters — wow. Any brothers?”
“Nope.” He massages the gel into the roots of her head and she leans into his touch, closing her eyes.
“And are you the youngest?” she asks.
“Nah, in the middle.”
“A middle child. That explains a lot.”
“Hey now,” he slaps her gently on the ass, then runs his fingers through her hair, washing away the suds. “How about you? If I’d guess, I’d say you’re the oldest child — you’ve got that killer, no bullshit streak about you.”
“Nope, I’m the youngest. The wild child, knocked off the tracks, gone wrong sibling.”
“How many siblings you got?”
“Just one — my brother. He’s first violinist in the New York Philharmonic. You’ve probably heard of him.”
“I doubt it.” He tips her head forward, then glides soap down her back, over her ass and down her legs, lifting each foot in turn. “I know fuck all about classical music.”
“How d’you learn then?”
“My sister started playing. She used to let me sit and watch her practise and then eventually she taught me a few chords and stuff. In the end, she gave it up and I kept practising. My mom encouraged it — guess she thought it kept me out of trouble.” He turns her around and rubs the soap over her chest, paying special attention to each breast.
“And did it? Keep you out of trouble?”
“What do you think?” he asks with a smirk.
She laughs. “Yeah, my parents were sort of the opposite. When I dyed my hair and got my nose pierced, started writing rock songs with Nat, they pretty much had a melt down.”
“But now you’re a household name?”
“I’m not sure about that …”
He stops the cleaning of her body and stands up straight, resting his palms on her shoulders.
“After Saturday night — the award, that fucking dress, that shitty stunt, everyone knows who you are.”
She takes the soap from his hand and starts to run it over his chest. “I guess I have Nat to thank for that. The stylist found that dress for her but Nat thought it would suit me better.”
“Is she mad about it now?”
She looks up at him. “Nat’s not some kind of dragon, you know? She’s my best friend.”
“If she’s your best friend why haven’t you told her about us?”
