Page 51 of Hard Lessons

She frowned. “Is it ready?”

He straightened, his gaze drifting down her body. “Si.” A smile tipped his mouth. “I like you dirty, Serena, but not quite like this.” He chuckled and took her hand. “Get in.”

Her feet had gone numb, so had her hands.

As yet another rumble of thunder rattled overheard, she stepped into the tub. “Fuck. It’s too hot.”

“It’s not, you’re just cold.” He urged her down.

She bit on her bottom lip and submerged herself into the water. He was right, it was the perfect temperature, and deep too. It came up to the rim of the tub by the time he reached to turn it off.

Splashing water on her face, she closed her eyes and let a final shiver tremble through her body.

“It’s okay,” he said softly and kneeling by the bath. “A few minutes and you’ll be warm again.”

She nodded.

Luca reached for a plastic jug, filled it then set his palm on her forehead. “Tip your head back.”

She did and he gently filled her hair with the warm water. It made her scalp tingle as it heated and she sighed.

“I’ll always look after you,” he said quietly. “Never doubt that.”

After a few minutes he rinsed her hair, carefully and thoroughly, shielding the water from her face and being sure to get every last trace of soap suds out.

“You’re done,” he said. “Stay there while I get a fire going in the hearth.”

She nodded and took the bar of soap he offered her.

When he’d left the bathroom she set about washing her face and between her toes, glad to get rid of the mud. She then let some of the water out, added more hot.

Smoke filtered toward her along with the crackling of wood.

The thought of a fire to sit beside was very appealing.

Then Luca walked back in. Naked.

Fuck.

She caught her breath, his sudden appearance, his beauty and his strength, catching her unawares.

“I’m filthy too,” he said, throwing her a wink. “I can clean my body if not my mind.” He chuckled.

She wanted to look away as he stepped into the small shower cubicle, but she couldn’t. Her gaze was hooked like some kind of magnet—his cute tight ass, the width of his shoulders, his cock at half-mast.

He soaped up, shampooed his hair, held his face to the showerhead. Water ran downward tracing the lines of his muscles, dipping into the arrowed dents at the base of his abdomen, flattening his body hair to his flesh.

She licked her lips and remembered the orgasm he’d just given her. It had been wild, they’d behaved like animals—or at least he had. But damn, it had been good. Memories of every other climax he’d given her tumbled back into her reality.

He was here.

She was here.

Why the hell was she fighting it?

We’re no longer compatible.

“That’s better,” he said, stepping out and after scrubbing his hair and chest with a thin faded blue towel, wrapping it around his waist. “Just like the old times, eh. Sharing the bathroom.”

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