Page 160 of Remnants: Disruption
“With my life,” I whisper, giving her a weak smile. “And my heart.”
Her lips split into a wide grin before pulling me up and forward, bracing my hands on her shoulders.
“There is a seat in the shower,” she says, fingers deftly unlatching the clasp.
I nod and she lets the garment drop.
“Brace yourself on the chair,” she says, eyes never leaving mine.
I nod again and do as she asks.
She kneels. She kneels and if I weren’t drenched in my own puke, sweat, and blood, I’d probably be soaking wet at the sight of her.
“Step out of these for me,” she says, voice almost reverent. Like she understands the gravity of what’s happening as well.
I do so and she slides my panties down my thighs and off my ankles.
Her hands trace up my thighs, then my hips. And finally, to my torso as she takes my weight again.
“Turn and step into the shower,” she says, and I realize belatedly that we’re already in a bathroom.
Except it isn’t the ensuite in her apartment.
“Where are we?” I ask, letting her guide me over the lip of an enormous shower with four waterfall heads.
“I have a lot to explain, but please let me take care of you,” she says, and I sit roughly onto the chair that is, indeed, in her shower.
I only nod and turn a little, letting the world stop spinning. Letting the water wash away the gross film over my body.
And then I see her.
“Oh,” I whisper as I watch Cassandra Alta strip her shirt off.
And then her pants.
And then her underwear.
“Oh my God,” I groan and not even a gut punch from Darkrend himself could stop me from worshipping the naked body that joins me in the hot water.
She’s perfect. Literally picturesque. Breasts that could fit perfectly in my palm, if I reached out and—
Cass’ eyes meet mine, and a small curve forms at her lips.
“You can touch me,” she whispers, again kneeling in front of me, moving between my legs.
She begins to scrub at my skin with a sponge I hadn’t seen her grab. Instead of watching her work, I let my hands wander down her face. My thumb grazes her lower lip, and she spares me a heavily lidded glance before returning her attention to my torso.
“You took a beating,” she says, voice more concerned than I would like.
My hands come down her neck, pausing as I feel the pulse thrum beneath my fingertips. It’s slower than I would have expected.
“I don’t know what he was,” my voice barely a whisper, “but he hit harder than Darkrend.”
Her gaze snaps to mine, but I let my hands move further south.
She lets out a gasp as my thumbs run along her pink nipples. The skin pimples with gooseflesh and I want so badly to kiss them. To lavish them.
Except if I lean forward I’ll probably fall over.
