Page 76 of Peasants and Kings
“Stop right there,” I commanded him, holding up my hand when he stood before me completely and gloriously nude.
He was a sight to behold. Long angular lines, muscles, scar.
“Stop? Why?” Hadrian asked.
“You are not climbing in this shower with me.”
“Why not? Do you still feel sick? The medication should’ve started working by now.”
“The pill worked.” I nibbled my lip. “You have to promise not to kiss me.”
“Excuse me?”
“I haven’t brushed my teeth,” I blurted out. “And I just”—I waved my hand in the direction of the toilet—“many times.”
Without a comment, he marched to the sink, pulled open a drawer and took out a brand-new toothbrush. He tore off the wrapper and then doused it with toothpaste, ran it under the sink, and then brought it to me.
“Brush your teeth, Eden. And I promise not to kiss you. That’s not what this is about.”
I took the toothbrush and scrubbed my teeth and tongue, turning around so he could only see my backside, somehow embarrassed that a man who had fucked me would watch me brush my teeth.
Hadrian took the toothbrush from me when I was done and then got into the shower, settling himself behind me.
I turned to face him. My finger traced the scar along his abdomen. His skin danced under my touch.
“Knife,” he said gruffly.
“I didn’t ask,” I whispered.
“You didn’t have to.”
I looked up to stare at him, like I was truly seeing him for the first time.
“Who are you, Hadrian?”
His eyes were intense as they bored into mine. His hand reached out to touch my jaw. “A man with his own past.”
Hadrian’s thumb grazed my bottom lip and a pang of lust slid down my belly to settle between my legs.
“Lean back against me,” he said gruffly.
I reluctantly turned around and settled against him, resting my head on his chest as we stood with the hot water running over us. He made no move to do anything other than cradle me from behind.
He gently nudged me forward and then squirted shampoo from a pump attached to the wall into his hands. “Let me wash your hair.”
He was taking care of me in his commanding fashion, but I couldn’t say I didn’t enjoy it.
“Will you tell me more? About your childhood?” I asked as his hands began to massage my head and suds foamed in my hair.
He brushed his lips along the curve of my shoulder. “No. Not right now.”
“Why not?”
“Because you haven’t earned it.”
“Earned it?” I whipped my head around, staring at him as shampoo bubbles dribbled down my temples and neck. “You don’t mean I have to—”
“For God’s sake, woman,” he muttered. “I just meant I’m not going to tell you everything there is to know about me when you refuse to do the same.”
